


Misfortunate Fate

by DankTempsey



Category: Call of Duty, nazi zombies
Genre: M/M, Origins, character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3340871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DankTempsey/pseuds/DankTempsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Origins setting.</p><p>The summary before was a bit misleading, for there was more to occur. Just read and enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, reader! As you can see, there is not much, if not any, of the original members in the Origins time. I have decided to change that. Here is a fanfiction, which will have many chapters along with it, and I hope everyone will enjoy this. With every 5 or 10 reads, I will update this—I have already written several chapters. 
> 
> I hope this chapter was great, leave feedback if you would like, or even kudos! Thank you.
> 
> Also, the chapters will increase with words each new update (kind of.)
> 
> And… I wanted to dedicate this to that one person on Tumblr who demanded more Origins fanfiction.
> 
> Okay, I'm done.

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 1

 

Richtofen recalled this moment in his consciousness a little too often, since he knew he'd be held responsible for this… He was the one who suggested the American go alonesome, and defeat the walking battery himself. He was the strongest in their group, afterall. And Edward hadn't doubted him in any way. But his uncertainty grew once he watched a metal claw clasp firmly around Dempsey and yield him unwillingly to the suit operator. Fire spewed colorfully from the undead's flamethrower, wrapping around the soldier like a blanket. His skin boiled and popped once it was sheared from the usual top layer, sizzling once rain came within contact of the steaming flesh.

Afterwards, Richtofen eliminated the last of the undead, including the Panzer Soldat, and (struggled to) carry Tank to safety...

And now, there he lay. Against a beige bed; dried up blood crusts around the contours, remnants of intestines hanging from the top bunk, and occasional bed bugs to crawl around and feed on the gore surrounding them. Edward removed the upper clothing from Dempsey, whom was in extremely poor condition. He couldn't open his eyes, and his throat was utterly dry from inhaling the smoke from his own charred body. Sometimes he'd mutter something about the German, or cry softly.

Once his upper body's attire was removed, Richtofen gasped. The burn marks were worse than he could have ever imagined. But he couldn't just gawk absentmindedly now, not when the marine was sobbing relentlessly. Richtofen finished with tending to the wounds—wrapping dressings around the cleansed blemishes and making an IV from a washed-out zombie blood package, a needle, and a long rolled line of plastic and feeding it into the American's arm—he just stared at him. He couldn't do anything else but make sure if the younger man would be alright.

Soon enough, the other two teammates burst through the door; their eyes immediately fixed onto Richtofen, who was in a chair, hovered over the man on the bed.

"Is the American alright?" Questioned the Japanese soldier, slight worry caught in his voice. Edward continued to keep his eyes to Dempsey, and he awaited for any signs if he was truly okay. Nikolai stalked to Richtofen, placing a hand onto his shoulder, "What happened, Richtofen?" At the sudden sound of a bellowing voice at ear level, the doctor jumped slightly—fixing his posture as well.

"I... I don't know…"  
"What do you mean you do not know?" Questioned Takeo.

The doctor spun to the side in his seat, and looked at the sword-weilding-warrior from his peripheral vision. It was silence, until the German opened his dry lips.

"I meant, he left to go battle the suit operator alone. He said he was the strongest to do so, which I hadn't doubted to the least… With my own cluster of the undead, he and I happened to meet a few feet away from each other. He did not see me, but I saw him," Richtofen began to shake, his thin fingers caressed his dark chocolate locks, "The… 'thing' grabbed him, pulled him within his reach, and…"

"That is enough. We don't need any further explanation." Nikolai told, "Are you sure that's what happened?" Richtofen bit his bottom lip, resting his head in his hands, "I'm sure of it." He immediately regretted saying this. Lying to people you'd just met on your most adventurous day in war, about a year or so ago, didn't seem like it'd be the best thing to do. Especially when all of his teammates appeared as if they could've kicked Edward's ass.

He coughed nonchalantly once Takeo looked at him, the Japanese's eyes pierced into his soul without hesitation. "Surely the American is smart enough to not face the mechanized undead, or to even suggest going alone." Takeo input, moving closely to Edward, keeping his eyes sharp and his body movement hostile. The doctor grew startled—even if he was lying, he thought he was doing pretty well at it. He stood, and looked down at the warrior. 

"I'm sorry, I did not know this was interrogation time."

 

-

 

Edward continued to tend to the American, no matter if he could have done anything or nothing at all. He continued to change the man's pillows, use an unnecessary amount of bandages, and check on his IV twice every two seconds. 

Figuring nothing could be done, he rested in his chair; slumping back and running fingers throughout his hair. 

He couldn't believed this happened. Guilt mowed over him; chewed him up, and spat him out; absolutely devoured him into the belly of the beast. Richtofen's stomach churned at the memory of Dempsey getting burnt like coal in a grill. Oh God, and the way he cried out when he was enveloped in flames… The American was worth crying over, so that's what Edward took time to do. If they lost him, they would have lost the game, lost more than half a chance of reaching Agartha. That was the real reason he was bawling his eyes out anyways.

After some time, the doctor dried his tears, and stood. He walked to the door of the closed off room, he would come back tomorrow anyways. He grabbed the latern, blowing out the little fire, and looked around the room for a minute—admiring the blue element that glistened and shined in the dark. Element 115. He wondered how he could remain exposed to the rock, and or not be contaminated by the side effects his original team contracted. They were sick for days, and hadn't done anything but infect the other teammates as well. But when Edward came within the minerals reach, he felt stronger—no, literally. He swore he grew a few inches taller, his body became healthier and… 

Richtofen widened his eyes, the gears were on overdrive in his noggin now. A mischievous smile stretched across his countenance while he took a pair of gloves from his kit near the American, and picked up the electric rock. He smirked, stroking the precious stone in hand… 

 

-


	2. Chapter 2

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 2 

 

All of his life, he created and modified objects for his own benefit. He never had a reason to make things for anyone, but himself. Maxis didn't count though, since his former friend and him had worked together on things constantly. Sometimes out of fun. Richtofen smiled as he remembered the days of practicing actual science. He wished it would go back to times like that, but it risked him not ever meeting the others and never having a possibility of reaching Agartha. He wondered how in heaven's name the other's were so knowing on what to do, and over masked Ludvig's intellect. Edward knew him ever since he was a young boy, and he'd only respect him as a smart man. But… infantry grunts! Ones who were assigned to wield weapons as they would reach the age. Actually, two of them confessed of holding rifles, swords ever since they were little boys… 

A loud sizzling sound sparked Richtofen back to consciousness, he looked down into the test tube in his hand—bubbles formed over the lid, and slowly poured over the top, like an over filled cup of smoke. Richtofen smiled. He added an ingredient after the next. The concoction fizzled, bubbles converted to a deep red.

"Ja," He breathed, nodding in the process, "Das ist gut." The doctor added Juggernog, and then finally… Element 115. 

He carefully picked the block of blue up, his hands trembled as he scraped some of the mineral off and put it into the beaker. Fumes over flowed the top, a smile cracked on Edward's face. "How proud Maxis would've been… How proud everyone would've been…"

The German's smile quivered slightly, and ended up to be a simple frown.

Soon, tears escaped his eyelids...

 

-

 

Richtofen unlocked the door that led to the closed off room, carrying a plentiful amount of boxes and random gizmos. 

"I'm back," Announced Richtofen.  
"Hello, Richtofen," Greeted Takeo, "The American is doing fine. He continues to cry every once in a while, and writhe." He stood, moving towards the door to help the doctor with the boxes. The warrior removed all of them from the German's hand and stalked away with them; some had towered over him. The German dusted his hands off, smiling lightly at how the other had looked with the containers piled against his body. "Ah, thank you. And, I do not know why he continues to do such. He shouldn't feel any pain from how bad these marks are. Perhaps… third degree burns?"

Takeo set the brown and grey things down, arching an eyebrow as he did so. "He looks as if he was weathered by a volcano from Pompeii." 

Edward shrugged, sitting at the chair amongst the side of the bed. "Even if so, it is about to change."

"What does one mean?" Asked Masaki,  
"I'm going to feed something into his IV. It will heal him tremendously."  
"Is there a downside?"  
"There is a slight of a chance that he will…"

The bearded man's eyes had widened. His face grew a look of consternation and confusion. "You cannot put him through that. Even if he is the strongest, he might not survive this scientific… abomination." He input, walking towards Richtofen with determination to scare the other man out of his skin. And it worked. Edward jumped up from his seat—nearly tripping on the wooden stilt of the object—and watched the man before him. Did he usually breathe so heavily? Was he always that scary? Edward remembered that face, though. It was the same snarl he used when he met eyes with the the other men—unaware, and intimidating.

Richtofen crossed his arms, he obliviously moved along towards the Japanese man (right after Takeo backed up)."It's for research! For science! It's to safe our dear Dempsey from… well, death! In this state, I am definetly positive him being dead would be better than this. It's either him taking precious weeks for him to get better, or I inject this into the pouch and save his life."

Richtofen stepped closer to Takeo. "You know, I'm positive if he was awake and well, that we would already be in Agartha." Whispered the doctor, "Plus, the percentage of him dying from this is only… three or five percent. It will be f—"

"I hear something of killing the American?"

The two men looked over to the door. Nikolai stood, his head peaked halfway through the doorway.

"No!" They answered simultaneously.

He moved through the room, brown eyebrows knit together in suspicion. "Good. We need such a great contribution to stay with this… 'team.'" Responded Nikolai, overlooking the terrible colored wounds on the young man's body.

"I'm not sure he will live. But I'm sure that I will have to inject this into him, and feed his IV this." Richtofen palmed the graduated cylinder, showing the blood red substance to the others. He walked to the American, sliding out his syringe from his front breast pocket.

"I need someone at my side, please."

Nikolai took a few strides to the doctor, making sure the German knew he was at his side. "Now, if you would…" He handed the Russian the syringe, "As I do this, you need to inject this into his arm right there."

Soon, the men had done so—Richtofen switched the IV, and Nikolai injected the fluid.

"Will he be alright?"

Edward nods at the Japanese soldier. "Yes, but since he has started this 'medication,' persay, this means he will have to take it everyday… or so. If he does not, the chance of his demise will increase,"

"Even if he is to die?" Questioned Nikolai,  
"What kind of question is that? When he dies, that's all. Though, have faith he will not. He has enough muscle to sustain a vicious horde of undead… for days."  
"And, what kind of answer is that? That does not have anything to do with this."

Richtofen held his chin, he continued to observe the man on the bed.

"It does… Just wait and you will see how…"

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reads. I guess they will do for now, until this becomes more updated and whatever. Till then, hits will be fine. 
> 
> Thank you all once again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 3

 

It became a process; Edward going into the room, injecting the hollow needle into the young American, checking his condition on a daily basis. It was a good thing, though. Tank started to show great progress. His body was especially showing so; the marks began to clear, and his figure became more enveloped in huskiness. It became a bit distracting too, as Richtofen would catch himself noticing the man's body a little too much.

Today, though, he would have to wait to return to Dempsey. The hordes of the undead had become too much for two soldiers to handle alone. But Edward wondered why they needed his help. Richtofen was the weakest, which he had even admitted to. Because of this, he figured it was something to do with how to obtain the staff pieces and etcetera. Richtofen didn't know about that, either. He only knew that they were all scattered over the site. He was lucky to have figured out how to get the Wind Staff and the Ice Staff, which he traded in for the other, every each day.

Today he had the Ice Staff, which happened to be his least favorable. Takeo already called dibs on the staff of Wind, and Nikolai refused to hold such a weapon, so the man had to have it. 

"Are we all ready?" Questioned Richtofen, reloading his weapon as the others had as well. Takeo nodded, and Nikolai followed up with a hearty chuckle. 

"If ready would mean, preparing to risk life for other people, then yes, doctor." Belinski replied, hatred dripping from his lips with pride. The Japanese warrior eyed the Russian. He wondered if the man could ever shut his mouth, and agree. All the time he would like to fuss, or even bicker at the others, implying he was doing all of the work. Takeo disagreed. He disagreed strongly. But he would never say so. The dark haired man kept it to himself, turning the other cheek and nodded on with whatever work they would have to continue for the day.

"Alright then," Gently said Edward, "then let us all go…"

 

-

 

His hands grappled the staff, as if he could be holding onto his own life. That, of which, he was, since the icy thunder provided a means to kill off the surrounding enemy. Edward continued to freeze-and-shatter the enemy, when they would all walk his way. He watched throughout green pearls, as the zombies would gradually slow and solidify. Even if it looked too tortuous for human eyes, he seemed to smirk and continue to ice over the groups of endless soulless corpses. 

Richtofen woke from thought, as the Japanese man joined his side; bringing a few of the screeching dead.

"I apologize," Said Takeo, "I have run out of ammunition with both of my weapons."

Ah, so that was why he had come here. Usually Takeo was independent, strong, and willing to kill any moving object that stood in his way at times like these. He never wished for any help, unless his misfortune gobbled him up into piles of zombies, which he would need help getting recovered from. He was humble to ask for help, or to even say thank you. Richtofen wondered why… 

"You are alright, Takeo. I'm just glad you joined my side before we could have lost you." Responded Edward, handing the man his MP40. The other man simply nodded, and finished killing the rest of the undead with him. 

After it was over, Edward wandered off to the side of the cemetery, and sat against one of the tombstones. He glared at his fingers—they looked as if they contracted frostbite, or something worse. That was why he didn't favor the weapon. He'd always have cold hands to deal with afterwards. The German shoved his palms underneath his arms and shivered. He was freezing, and the constant switch between snow and rain didn't help either.

"Are you alright, Edward Richtofen?"

The doctor looked up at Belinski. His face sowed with some worry or fret. He even had a frown to prove so.

Richtofen stood, keeping his arms within his pits. "Take the staff back underground, Nikolai. I have to go check on the American."

 

-

 

The German managed down the hallways of the forgotten areas and bunkers. He was extremely upset at himself, but he didn't have a clue why. Was it something to do with his anxiety? Most likely not. He suffered from that everyday, and bottled down every emotion that wanted to crawl up, except for that certain one. Was it something to do with Nikolai?

It was Nikolai.

He offered to help the German, or at least ask if he was alright. He couldn't believe it. The doctor tried to become more independent and away from the three. He didn't want to look like he needed help. Especially from Nikolai. He was the big one, the one who could fight off the undead with his bare fists if he wanted to. With him asking the man if he needed assistance was so irritating! He was Doctor Edward Richtofen. Assistance wouldn't be appreciated from anyone from now on, he hoped.

Edward came to a stop at his journey, when he met the door that held a creation behind it—Tank, that was. He exhaled heavily; removing a key from his breast pocket, unlocking the door, and making his way inside. Richtofen closed the door, holding the frame as he would, to keep it quiet as possible. He didn't want any of the undead finding out about their only sanctuary. And it would be a damn pity if it would be the doctor making them discover it. Edward twisted the little contraption on the doorknob and… 

"Richtofen?"

He almost dropped the little golden trinket as he listened to the deep voice break the silence. His heart pounded in his chest, like a man on a kick drum. 'That is not Nikolai, nor Takeo,' he thought. And he thought right. As he would turn around, his eyes met Dempsey's—the blue moons shining and darting right at Edward's green ones. Richtofen's heart almost stopped, whilst he was eyeing the standing man. His jaw dropped (so did the key from his hand) and he felt his knees shake. Tank was alive. And healthy—his body was more muscular and tall, his hair mimicked a sunset in the summer, and his face… well, he couldn't look anymore charming, except a few more tiny hairs grew on the edge of his jaw.

"D... D…" He couldn't even say his name. All he did was walk up to him, and raise a hand to the man's body. He examined him before grazing his fingertips across the toned man. Dempsey's skin fidgeted at the cold hands he possessed. "You're alive…" Whispered Edward, as it all felt so relieving. It was so relieving that he… 

Richtofen dropped to the ground like a dead man, his face was as pale as a ghost and his position very sprawled.

 

-


	4. Chapter 4

Misfortunate Fate 

-

 

Chapter 4

 

 

The German stayed in absolute disbelief. No matter how many times Tank would pop up in his little room for another injection of the well-known element, Richtofen refused to believe the he was alive. And it wasn't just with him. Takeo and Nikolai had to do a double take once they saw Dempsey, because he didn't even look like the soldier they fought with. He was more developed for sure, perhaps as tall as Nikolai, but more muscular than him. Belinski didn't seem to have a problem with it, either. He was just happy that the man was back, and now he could kick ass twice as much. Takeo thought the same… 

 

The men sat around a table; only three of them; where the heck was Richtofen?; and devoured the food upon the wooden surface.

 

"Damn, Tak. I don't know where you found this, but I love it." Told Dempsey, ripping the sweet bread in half and stuffing it into his mouth. A contained smile spread across the Japanese's lips, he nodded to him. Soon, came the doctor. He rushed into the room, buttoning up his cotton white shirt, and throwing on his brown vest. The others stared at him, one gossiped freely about how ridiculous he looked. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," Greeted Tank, his words barely audible, "how'd you sleep?"

 

Richtofen yawned. He grabbed a mug, coffee grinds, and poured himself some hot water into it. The concauction didn't taste just like coffee. But it was pretty darn close.

 

"I slept… well." Replied he, 

"Well?" Asked Nikolai, "From what I heard, you passed out in midday! Falling into deep slumber around three should've be great."

 

The German shook his head, pulling a chair aside the men, and squatting onto it. "It was, but I had a creak in my neck. I didn't faint into a pile of pillows, you know." Replied Edward, then sipping from his mug solemnly. Dempsey looked at Takeo, and all the warrior did was shrug.

 

"Dempsey, I have been meaning to ask you..." Input Edward from behind his beige mug.

"Okay, shoot."

"Do you remember anything? From… what had happened to you?"

 

The air grew with impending tenacity. Everyone set down their utensils, cups, and anything else. All eyes were on the American. "Ah, yeah… I do unfortunately," Tank scratched at his neck and sighed, "You and I were killing the undead. I think we separated and then the armored thing came. The last thing I remember is it's flamethrower and… well…" 

 

The doctor felt his fingertips smoothly across the base of the mug, admiring the warmth and keeping himself quiet for the moment. A heavy swallow eminated from Nikolai, when he finished wolfing down the rough bread. Takeo hung his head lowly, his chin tapping the frame of his chest every once in a while. 

 

A hand caressed the side of Edward's arm, and he looked up. The same baby blues that he saw glistening in the dark had spotted out his deep green ones. "Well… you saved my life..."

 

The German's heart began to beat quickly, a weird feeling crawled across the doctor's heart. They continued to keep their eyes locked for a while… 

 

 

-

 

 

The Lightning Staff. Perfectly assigned for the American; compatible to show how strong and bold he was. But Edward wondered how in the hell they were going to retrieve the pieces. He understood they were inaccessible without help of something tall to help them into the hidden places. Where was a ladder when you needed one? 

 

Edward continued to gander at the map. He became immensely frustrated—slamming his fist down onto the table, and growling with distaste. They seemed so close, yet so far away… 

 

"Hey, doctor… You gotta second?"

"Nein, go away, Tank…"

 

The man almost stopped in his own track of words, widening his lookers as a lightbulb flickered above his head. "Yes… 'Tank.'"

 

 

-

 

 

"I'm not sure what you're sayin’, doctor."

 

Edward sighed, rubbing his temples as he groaned with disappointment. Yeah, sure. Tank was charming and all, but sometimes the doctor swore he had butts for brains. 

 

"Well, I will not explain it like I have the last two times. Just follow along, and do what I do—quick! Here comes a few undead." 

 

Moans and bloodcurdling screams interrupted the crisp, cold air of the church. The men awaited for some of the zombies to arrive, before they had actually had the feeling of worry latch onto them. The zombies rushed to the soldiers behind the tank. They would only find a certain death of a few bullets to the head, or their legs being disassembled from their bodies.

 

"That severed the cerebral cortex! I'm a doctor, I know these things."

"You're a cold-hearted son of a bitch Richtofen… I'm startin’ t’like you."

 

Edward grinned, slaughtering of the undead nearly came to an end—so he had thought. Another rush of the yellow eyed bodies dashed for them, becoming absolutely too much to handle. "Dempsey, get onto the tank. We are about to leave," Informed Edward. The American nodded, crawling upon the machinery and going towards the buttons. It didn't take long for him to become fascinated by the flashy lights. He became too distracted that…

 

 _rrRRRAWRCK!_ Uh oh. Dempsey turned to the horrific sound, guarding his face, as the zombie clawed at him without end. At this, the marine stepped backwards—leaning onto the button that made the tank go off. 

 

Edward turned around once he heard the sound of the engine running. "Verdammt noch mal!" Spat Edward, "Wait! Wait for me!"

 

The nautical didn't know how to stop the tank. He didn't even know how to start it. Plus, he was in his own battle right now. Tank kicked the zombie in the stomach, followed by a hard fist to the face. Crimson spotted the edge of the man's face; he took the zombie by both sides of the head, and squeezed it until it was nothing but bloody brains. After this was deemed done with, the marine reached a hand to Edward, whom was lagging behind of running for the mobile machine. He got trampled on by a bunch of zombies, nor did they hesitate to do this. Mud and blood plastered the man's hair against his face, as he ran for the tank.

 

"Hurry, Richtofen!"

"Gah! What do you think I am trying to do!"

 

Nearly missing the soldier's hand, the doctor clasped his palm around the man's arm instead and tried pulling himself up. That was a no go. Instead, it ended up with an impromptu grab to the ass, aided by your favorite American and a slightly irritated Edward. In short, he got on the tank. In time.

 

The doctor sat down, looking at his contaiminated hands after he wiped the wet dirt from his face. He'd frown with disgust, his facial expression twitched while he did so.

 

"I can't believe you—"

"Sorry doc, I didn't want to grab you there, but I had to help—"

"—almost left me stranded alonesome."

 

The marine scoffed, arching a brow as he had done so. "Are you kiddin’ me?" He questioned, rolling up his sleeves on the navy blue jacket, trying to impose a more aggressive and intimidating posture. Edward stood; continuing to clean the blood and dirt from his face. "Aha, ja… because if I was left alone, to the point where I would have to fend for myself, I would totally make it. I am weak, American. Und you are the strong one. I need to be sided with someone I can actually have a chance of surviving with."

 

The marine brushed it off, as it was nothing. "Yeah, sure whatever…" He uttered, crossing his bulky arms within his chest, "you could've at least thanked me for helping you on the tank."

 

"Oh, yes. Do not think I did not feel where your hand was placed," Pointed out Edward, "I expect an apology as soon as one can be made up."

 

"An apology for saving your life?" Inquired Tank, 

"Sure."

"Sorry for rescuing you, Richtofen. I won't do it again."

 

 

-


	5. Chapter 5

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 5

 

"Everyone, gather around. I have important news." 

The doctor set out maps onto the table, preparing to show the men such importance.

Takeo removed his shirt; it was drenched it blood, and so were his wrist-wraps. Before he had listened in on the plan, the male walked outside—hanging his attire on a metal pole, making sure the rain would soak it wet and make the crimson disappear. He returned to the group, shirtless, which earned a whistle from the American.

"What is news? Anything can be good for now." Said Nikolai, plopping onto a chair that surrounded the rectangular table. The three watched as the German's hand lingered on the map, pointing out specific areas, and explaining how they could all get to there. Most of the explanations resulted with head nodding, or slight confusion. Takeo and Nikolai had no knowing that the tank had met those areas at all. When Edward explained it, it sounded like he was something short of a madman.

"I do not understand," Intervened Takeo, "perhaps a visual representation would be best." Another frustrated sigh, the doctor crossed his arms—his countenance getting wet with worry. "Ah, err… Alright. I assume that it would be fine. Though, we will have to separate into different groups. Takeo and I, Nikolai and Dempsey."

"I mean, no offense or anything, but why do I have to be teamed up with Nikolai?" Tank asked,  
"Because yesterday. I explained to you about the staffs and—"  
"I still don't understand."

An exasperated sigh broke from the doctor's lips. He was completely sure that the 115 he continued to put inside of him defeated the American's common sense cells. Or brain cells in general. Edward leaned onto the table more; holding his elbows onto the wood surface and burying his face into his rough palms. Richtofen nodded to himself, ending up with having to improvise the situation in his mind and create a whole new plan. "Alright…" He mumbled, "Alright. It seems as if we will have to go tomorrow, since I do not know of the undead's pattern in the night. And, if you want to make some use of yourselves, then I suggest you all head to sleep early, but first off…"

Edward turned around, it didn't take him long to spot out what he wanted. He walked over to the side of a stand, removing the bottle of wine from the platform. As he turned to face the men, a wild smirk crossed his mustached lips. "I'm sure we all drink occasionally, so let's make it the occasion."

After finding a few glasses, Richtofen poured in each of the four glasses.

Dempsey was the first to take one, Nikolai was the last.

"Cheers, to good fortune in the future." Tank spoke, sliding a hand into his pocket, and raising his other hand to the center of the group. They all watched him. Their faces twisted with confusion. It took a while before any of them reacted.

Takeo faced from the others. "I do not intend of jumping onto the bandwagon of American customs. But if so, 'cheers' to you, Dempsey." Uttered Takeo, then sipping some of the alcohol. Nikolai faced abroad as well, crossing his arms and keeping a blunt expression as he looked at the poison. To him, it was poison. He would never drink even a little sip of the intoxicating beverage—so he thought for now.

Richtofen reached his glass out to Dempsey's, smiling softly. "I don't mind a little luck from someone I can trust."

The rims clinked as the two tilted them together. The German sniffed the purple-red substance before taking a sip—almost devouring the whole half-cup in one swig. On the other hand, Dempsey cringed. He didn't like the taste all the much. In fact, this was the first time he was tasting alcohol. The male forced the rest down the hatchet, coughing as he had ended the drink.

Takeo watched from the side, poor nips from the nearly broken glass. He then looked at Nikolai. The Russian stared at the cup he had already finished, a sad look appearing on his mien. This made the Japanese man laugh to the slightest; the dumbfounded look on his frenemy's face was priceless. The warrior had turned to the side, and chortled softly.

"Can Nikolai have another taste?"  
"Of course, my Russian friend. Though, I cannot stay for another glass. I must be getting to bed soon."

Eagerly, the Slavic man took a hold of the bottle and drowned his cup in the fluid. Takeo and Tank stared at each other… And shrugged… 

 

-

 

The doctor had stalked off to his room. He hoped this time the undead did not find him like the time before. It was just a zombie though. But it scented the man's movements, like a bat with a bug in the darkest cave. Edward was lucky he had noticed before a cluster would show up and attack. 

Anyways, the very exhausted man yawned—stretching before he had removed his vest, then his button-up shirt, and his tie—and folded the attire before him. He stretched once more before he moved off to his bed. 

But before he had lie down, a tapping sound caught his ears. It was the sound of a bottle on a door, Richtofen would find, whilst he turned to the noise and breathed out with relief. It was just the American. Not any type of monstrosity.

The green eyed gentleman turned back to his bed, preparing his comfy spot and yawning once again. "What do you want, Dempsey? Was I not clear of 'hitting the hay?'" Questioned Doctor Richtofen, sarcastically putting the mother land phrase out there. Tank moved along into the room, handing the doctor a glass and the bottle. 

The German kept a laugh to himself; looking to the floor, shaking his head all the while, "What's this all about?" 

"I wanted to talk. That's all."  
"As I am about to bed down for the night? I d—"  
"Did I mention you look great today? I like the way you did your hair."

Edward rolls his eyes when a teeny smile creeps onto his pink lips. "You can go ahead and speak… and drink. I do not intend on getting drunk this nacht, nor carrying a conversation for long."

Tank frowned, setting the bottle down along with the glasses. "And I don't intend on drinking without you," Responded Dempsey, "it's my first time with this stupid 'drinking' thing. It taste terrible, in all honesty."

Dempsey slumped down onto the floor, keeping distance from Edward intentionally. As the German soon came aware of this, he invited the American to sit with him on the bed; Richtofen placed his pillow onto the nightstand, and drew away from the edge of the bed.

"So, doctor," Spoke Dempsey when he sits, "what was Maxis like? He seems a bit of an asshole and your sweetheart the way you talk about him." 

Edward continued the smile on his face, "He wasn't either, truthfully. We just seemed to bump heads a lot, since he is my… father I guess you could say. He adopted me young and we've mostly been friends ever since."

The American stay hushed, listening to the doctor eagerly:

"Maxis was very special to me, as I was to him. I love him dearly, and I don't intend on stopping my admiration for him."  
"So, I'm guessing it's true?"  
"What's true?"  
"All this talk about making a flying-brain-bot for him?"

Edward nodded, swallowing softly as he did so. "Ja, I need him alive. It just feels wrong that he was left with being infected and… sorry…" The German couldn't go on. Words sat in his throat, feeling as if he had swallowed an apple whole. 

Dempsey nodded, patting the German on the back lightly. "Sorry for… bringin’ it up."

He eventually gathered his strength to whisper a small gratitude that he comforted him, and to actually look at the marine. Damn those eyes. He would cherish them forever if he could have. The brace of men continued to stare at each other, observing each other's movements, their facial expressions, and anything else. 

It was so long, before the American had done anything to break the gazing. "I gotta go, Richtofen. I hope you feel better, okay?" Told Dempsey, heaving himself from the bed and facing the door. Edward nodded, "Okay," he whispered, gnawing his trembling lip. Dempsey soon headed out the door, leaving the doctor to himself.

 

-


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess some gay stuff  
> Lol  
> Thanks for the kudos and reads, comrades!  
> This chapter might be a little whacky??

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 6

 

He felt sick. As in; butteflies floating around in his tummy, a constant sweat everytime he saw the other, plus a daily dose of shivering. What surprised him was, that it'd only happen around the American—big shocker. Doctor sighed, stroking the side of the tank's engine, as he awaited for his colleagues to show up. Gah, he said to sleep early, not come outside late. But the men appear nonetheless. Stumbling down the alley of mud, groaning like zombies, while they gnawed on their breakfast. They lined up side-by-side, facing Richtofen.

"Three brave men reporting for duty, Edward." Spoke Nikolai, dragging his words aimlessly from his bearded lips. 

Takeo just stood there—his hands behind his head while he looked into the sky and yawned. Tank leaned against his Russian friend, merely snoring as he would find himself drifting further and further from the doctor's voice… 

*SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!*

"Awake, everyone. We need to go." 

Childish whines broke from Nikolai and Dempsey's lips, they grumbled and moaned as they went towards the tank. Well, at least Tank did. Nikolai had bumped into Takeo, whom had directed the zombified man to the vehicle. Dempsey struggled up onto the tank, slipping his foot off the platform a few times, before he had actually got on. Edward admired the dopey man. His face was just emanating so much exhaustion, Richtofen could feel it. The German hopped onto the mobile machine easy-breezy, then went to the control panel. Various buttons glowed into the man's face.

"I'm guessing we start the transport with this…" Uttered Edward, slamming the button. As he did so, all engines were a go. The tired men wobbled back and forth, trying to gain balance before they would have stumbled backwards and hit the grey, wet sand. Takeo held onto the rail, his feet trembled whilst the vehicle continued to move. Nikolai and Tank soon followed this action, assuming the Japanese man knew best, like he always had. 

Richtofen leant against the electrical box, keeping his all-and-all focus on the light brown, tattered map. "As we should arrive, Takeo will jump into that area. I will get the other piece, located in the back of the church."

The moaning and mumbling the doctor heard next, was not the sound of his upset teammates. But the sound of fallen ones. A mass of living dead were chasing the tank. And the men didn't even have their weapons. 

"Damn this! We will never be able to obtain the pieces…"  
"Doctor, I am sure that I will be able to make it out alive. I am fast, agile."

Richtofen shook his head, slamming his balled up fingers onto the control panel. "Nein, I refuse to have a probability of losing you, Takeo. Our work will have to be stopped until further notice. Ta—"

The warrior jumped onto the high wood, almost sliding off immediately, and carried on to execute his mission. 

"Takeo!" Shouted the three, one about acting as if they would have jumped off and retrieved him. The clump of dead masses leapt to the platform as well, dashing into the small precinct along with the short warrior.

The men waited and waited, keeping themselves focused on the excavation site, awaiting for him.

Slashing his way through the undead, appeared the mighty warrior. Blood splashed onto his face, his katana in such harsh grip of the bandaged hands.

"He's alive," Spouted Edward, stammering on his words even, "I can't believe it!"

"Keep going! I will continue on alonesome!"

The men rejoiced for the time being, until it was time for Edward to go. 

"Are you sure, doctor?" Asked Nikolai, "You do not seem as if you can fight them alone. Perhaps I should come with?"  
"No, we do not want to put two people in risk. I can go. I'm sure I'll be fine."

So, as the time arrived, the doctor sprung from the metal conveyance, and onto the dirt path into the church. Edward's eyes gleamed with wonder. Purple cascaded onto the floor, as the piece of staff would rotate in mid air. He had no idea how it happened; floating object as such were unfeasible to believe in; the doctor slipped the illuminating gadget into his hands, and turned to go. 

When he did, he knew it was for certain that death awaited. A zombie stared the man down, yellow eyes flickered with unlawful hatred or uncertainty. The doctor stay in his place. Preparing for the undead to dart at him, so he could make a quick escape. That didn't seem to happen though. The life-filled corpse guarded the exit, remaining hostile. 

Edward blinked more than often, his knees shook, and his vision blurred. He wasn't sure if this would be the end or not. Even if it was, he would have to fight back. Gradually, the German reached for the nearest object on the ground—that being a wood plank with nails halfway wedged into the base. Ah, shit.

The green eyes stay in contact with the yellow ones. It felt like it was getting so much closer and closer… Or was it just the foreign man being paranoid from one zombie. His bloody hands trembled while drawing back the wide stick. German profanity escaped his chapped lips.

 

-

 

A loud shreik followed by crackling wood filled the American's ears. Then another few foreign words after. Richtofen. He was in trouble! It depended how much, too—Tank wouldn't be able to save the man from much, since Nikolai had left to go check on the Japanese man. So, Dempsey made his way upstairs, looking through the metal wires to look for Richtofen. And there he stood—or, limped—brushing the blood from his lips and cheek. Also his forehead.

"Doctor!"

The man turned as soon as he heard the marine. It was stupefying how much admiration met the German's expression when he saw the man standing there. Richtofen trudged to Dempsey. A smile wavered on his face.

"Dempsey…"

He placed his fingers betwtixt the holes of the barbed wires. "I'm fine, American," Calmly said Richtofen, "I've disposed of it." The devil dog grins, his digits overlapping the doctor's throughout the metal twists. "Is there a way you can get out from here? Or do you have to go over there?"

With his free hand, the German sluggishly pointed to the back way of the church.

"Alright. I'm coming to get you; go to the edge."

And in no time did Tank come. He looked up at the doctor, shading his eyes from the bright lights over head. Edward got down to his rear, sliding off with a simple push, and landed into the American's arms. An eerie tremble played onto Edward's lips, Tank stared at the man he held his arms around. Soon he carried him to the tank, holding Edward's waist tautly, then resting him against the foot of the automobile. "You're head," Pointed out Dempsey, "what happened?" He stooped down to Richtofen, who was sitting on the ground.

It took a while before Richtofen responded. His heart was thumping so loud, he swore Dempsey could hear it. "The zombie clawed at my forehead as I tried to swing at it with the plank. I had failed a few times, before I actually hit it. In the time I did not succeed, he managed to injure me so…"

Dempsey raised a hand onto the German's temple, pressing softly on it before he determined how bad the scratch. Edward swatted the man's gloved extremity from his face, shaking his head. "Do you not remember? I am a doctor. I will tend to this later." Informed Richtofen, his face becoming not even half of a smile. Tank scoffed lightly, inspecting the wound closer. "Later means infection, and that's one thing I don't want you getting."

"It will not get infected, as I suggest you should leave me be."  
"Richtofen, I just want to help. Why do you have t’push me away when I wanna help?"  
"Because, I do not need help. I am not in need of help. If I was, I would say something. Now, get off of me."

The doctor gave Dempsey a slight push on the shoulders, intending to thrust the man back, even a little. But it hadn't. In fact, it brought Dempsey a lot much more closer—on the American's will. "You act like you're scared of me, doctor," Whispered the marine, "ever since you made me like this."

"I just… feel funny…"  
"Hm?"  
"Like I'm about to vomit when I'm around you. I get so nervous. So tense. I assume it is too much one one five in your blood. I am getting infected with some side effects or something."

Dempsey shook his head, a pleasured grin upon his countenance. "Oh, you've caught something, Richtofen."

"What is it? A contagious virus?"  
"Not quite that…"

The German grit his teeth. "Tell me. I need to know, so I can have a chance of stopping the contagion."

"It's a sickness."  
"What? A sickness?"  
"You're a love sick son of a bitch."

Edward's face became very pale. He tried to back away from the male as he heard those stupid words. He spoke, "That's absurd. That's absolutely idiotic." The devil dog leaned in closer, dominating the space between them. He saw Edward so vulnerable at this moment, which made him have a liking to laugh for. "Yeah?" Questioned Dempsey, "Then why do you care about me so much?"

"I don't!" Retorted Edward, "I mean I do, but you mean not a thing to me in such a romantic way."  
"Not a thing indeed; why did you do all of this for me? Make my body a walking weapon?"  
"Ah… It was the quickest way to revive you to life. I had to, I needed you! We need to finish all of this!"

Dempsey looked back and forth between the man's eyes, not sure if he should've trusted him or not. This, he should not have. Richtofen was pulling Tank's leg and fibbing especially. He couldn't say it to the American. He couldn't confess a thing; he didn't want the feeling unrequited. 

"You might want to get that thing patched up." The American narrowed a finger to the side of own his head, indicating the scratch on Richtofen's. 

"I will, on my own time, I told you. Now let's go—I must go do your daily medication."  
"Hm?"  
"The 115?"  
"Oh, sure."

 

-


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omg the kudos, thanks.
> 
> Uh, this is probably going to be the longest chapter I'll write. It's 2000+ words. Wow.

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 7

 

Takeo took the initiative to build the Lightning Staff, immediately handing it over to Dempsey when he had the chance. And, the American fell in love with it. The bolts of electricity spiraling from the tip of the chiseled object. He just admired the color purple too… 

But, with the cost of making such a staff, meant it came with a price. It wasn't that the conclusion of creating a weapon is bad, but it was whom who wielded it. Tank wasn't bad either, but his jokes… very much so. Almost every shot he had, the American would spout puns like no tomorrow. This angered the teammates very much so. But not Takeo. He found them funny, not like he'd actually ever say, though.

And after a hard day of killing zombies (two days actually) and depressing quips, the men retired, and left to their headquarters. 

-

 

They hoped today would be better. And probably Dempsey's jokes would get better as well. 

The men followed dressing procedures, Dempsey had already took his injection. And today they would have to meet in the main chamber. But that was after breakfast. 

The doctor skipped that, though. He never enjoyed food. Especially in the morning. A cup of coffee was fine, but anything more would have made him vomit.

Edward sighed. He hated to admit to have a liking of the scenery down here, since this place was originally the area where his colleagues had all passed. But, it kept a reputation for picturesque structures and bizarre monuments. In fact, those statues looked a bit familiar. A little too familiar… 

"You gonna keep standing there, or are you gonna grab your staff?"

Agh, Dempsey. He should've known. The man was always on his behind, perhaps even taking a glance at it once in a while too, and keeping an undercover profile. Edward strolled to the golden statue, and retrieved the staff it had withheld.

"American. Such a surprise to see you here," Spoke Edward, twitching nervously, "I assume you wanted to grab your staff as well? The Lightning Staff?" Before the German could finish his statement, Tank snatched the staff from the strong podium, and lugged it at his side. "Yeah I did. Besides, I didn't want you stealing it away from me. Or maybe even the other guys doing that." Stated Dempsey. Afterwards, he gave a big belch, patting his stomach once he finished. 

Richtofen smiled with disgust. "Charming."

Soon did Takeo and Nikolai, make their way down the elongated steps; huffing in small pants as they did so. This made Edward and Tank look at each other, then the others suspiciously. "You guys alright?" Questioned Dempsey, sharing his eyes with both of the men's bodies. Takeo held his knees, they shook as he did so. 

"There… horde… and…"

The confused gentlemen looked at Takeo, perplexed. 

"Zombie horde." Shortened Nikolai, patting the honorable man on the back. Richtofen smirked. He grappled the Ice Staff, then handed it to the Japanese man. "They seem to admire you most, Takeo. Watch out, alright?" The doctor shared a chaste wink, smirking all the while. The warrior nodded, taking the staff in hand. He uttered a small appreciation.

"Alright, comrades. Let us go kill some of those abominations."

 

-

 

Ironically; depressingly; Tank and the German had teamed together—as the marine's pick, and Takeo was left with Nikolai. They did not talk much. Only they had murmured things to the undead, threatened the undead, and etcetera. It was never any form of communication. Meaning, Nikolai tried, but only ended up with an upset Masaki, who did not want to reply whatsoever. The Russian scoffed. He ended up having more discussion with the zombies, rather than who he was actually aiming for. Well, until Takeo said:

"I wonder why the American chooses the German to go play with him so much. I doubt they actually get things done. Only do they slack and perhaps more venereal things."

Nikolai scoffed once more. He was offended for the men and what Takeo acclaimed them as. 

"Pardon me, but I think you are just upset that men have better friendship than you ever did."

The mighty Slavic gave a rain of bullets to shred through the undead's bodies—deep purple blood splattering onto the ground. The Japanese man looked at Nikolai, and Nikolai knew he was glaring at him, too. He just didn't want to look into those eyes. The dark brown orbs demanded words of truth and mysterious, fearsome things… "Might I ask, what does one mean?" Declaimed Takeo, wishing to pierce daggers into the man, with his own eyes. 

"You do not talk much, Takeo. I wish you would. You seem very friendly; as am I. Maybe if you would step from box, you might find it is not so scary to speak. I am your teammate, your friend. Speak to me, as one would speak around companions."

The Japanese man scowled. Speaking to people just seemed so pointless in a situation like this. Unless it be information being passed from one to another. But this wasn't information. It seemed more like truth. "I see what you mean," Uttered Takeo, "so I will try to improve."

 

-

 

"Doctor! Watch your back!"

Another purple bolt struck behind the German, nearly hitting him again! Dempsey laughed, continuing with his relentless tormenting of the soulless walking dead. 

"Gah! You have almost hit me again! Watch where you swing that! Also where you aim it!" Screamed Edward, the loud noise overlapping his voice entirely. The devil dog laughed. This was probably the most fun he would ever have in his life! Watching the zombies' bodies' dance as they were cooked from the inside out was just too humorous. The nautical nearly fell to the floor and rolled around in happiness.

Then… there was Edward. He was having quite a hard time. Every three seconds his feet would get caught in the mud, his staff continued to run out of ammunition (even if Dempsey was the one wasting the most bullets and bolts), his hands were sure to be sore from holding the heavy modified stick, and Tank was always killing all the zombies. The doctor wished he could've gotten some action. And here it came. Not a moment too soon did a wave of new undead appear from blocked boundaries, muddy puddles of water, and from cracks in barriers. 

The doctor left Dempsey. He was a little fed up of hearing constant jibber jabber in his right ear, the extensive care Tank had for him, and not having enough kills to purchase anything. Plus, the area he left to had a slightly leveled, mud platform, so the zombies would have to work their way to the man. Richtofen looked over the horizon of the steps at the entrance of the excavation site, then to the glowing, blue box to his left. He heard something about this peculiar object. Or objects—since you would have to fill all of them to obtain a reward. He wondered just what reward they'd get out of this… 

Edward soon began to have a taste for slaughter. Zombies that met the doctor had died before him; their souls collected into the electric box; and he loved it. The doctor never had an esteem for killing masses of the things, but since he was alone and didn't have anyone to focus on for now, the German began to love it for the time being, until he witnessed a giant robot very slowly making way. Actually, he wasn't even sure if it was headed for him or the other walkthrough. 

To clean the mess, Richtofen charged his Boreas' Fury, then sent a tornado of wind to the ground; it spinning and spiraling all around him. The man's hair had flew every which way, his eyes shutting every time blood from the vacuumed zombies would pile onto his face, and his lips drawing lightly into a smile.

He had thought this would be the last of them, but it was nearly at an end. Croaks, bloodcurdling yelps piped from every direction, and Edward grew very surprised. Surely this had to be a new wave—there were zombies digging their ways out of new barriers now! The doctor's eyes widened with fear and shock, the adrenaline rush was over, and now he had been quaking in his leather brown boots. One cluster after the other, they all ran into the doctor's direction and clawed at him for just a simple taste of his flesh. It was useless to try and kill them; the last charge of his Wind Staff ended with him completely out of ammunition and he hadn't reloaded his MP40 at all. If he even focused on his weapon for a second, he'd be a pile of forgotten doctor.

A quick snag at the German's shirt aided from the occuring dead had whipped his attention. Now there were more zombies trailing around him—he wasn't sure if running around in circles was something great of a solution to this anymore. 

Oh, but the robot! Perhaps he could delay the zombies to get squashed by the metal giant's foot. He would've done that, but the robot was walking some other way, and not in Edward's direction.

More monsters dashing over the hills. Fuck.

More undead limping to the tasty German. Shit.

"Someone… Please! Help me!" Cried Richtofen, a lump of desperation caught in his throat. He wished he didn't sound like so, even if he was desperate for help. His voiced cracked to the slightest as he asked for assistance, which made the man's face flush.

Soon, help reigned upon the undead like thunderbolts from heaven. Dempsey came to strike down on the undead, his eyes black with hatred. The marine's face was a pale, devil red and his grip on the staff could have made an imprint. 

Multiple shocks of electricity later, Tank had finished slaughtering the dead. Sweat dripped from his steaming face, while he threw the Lightning holder to the ground and pointed at Edward. "What in fuck's name were you thinkin’, doctor?"

Richtofen's countenance withheld sorrow and even more panic. He was more afraid of Dempsey than the accidental creations now. "I tried to… ahh…"

The American jousted his hand at the doctor's chest, poking him rather harshly. 

"What are you, fucking stupid? Do you know what trouble I had to go through to get you? Do you know that if I didn't see you, you would be dead meat? How dare you be selfish enough to kill alone. Especially without me!"

Edward looked away, slight waters pricking at his eyes as the words made way from the other man's lips.

"It took me forever to get over here, I was even yelling at you to get your attention when you did leave! I yelled and yelled, but apparently you couldn't even—" The German had hid his face. Redness painted so finely, along with hot tears to follow up. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. "Are you… crying?" 

"Don't even glance at me! I'm fine, just leave me alone!"

Richtofen pushed the nautical away. Well, he at least tried to—he didn't even make the American boulder move to the slightest. So, Edward face away, catching a slight glance of Tank before he did, and removed a handkerchief from his pocket. He sobbed lightly, drying droplets all the while. God, he was so penitent. He did wrong, and he knew so; hell, Dempsey made sure to call him out on that one.

Speaking of Dempsey, when the green eyes opened, there he was. Standing before the doctor, crossing his arms, and keeping a slightly apologetic look on his face. "I didn't mean to make you cry, doctor."

He steadily retrieved the cloth from Edward, and brushed the remaining tears and stains from his face. "I just want you to know that I care about you, a lot. Otherwise I wouldn't have yelled at you, alright?"

The German smacked the hand that caressed his face. "I care about you as well, but I do not scream toward you."

"It's called tough love," Told Tank.  
"It's called be nice, since I seem to reciprocate this… feeling."

A soft smile broke the rough soldier's lips.

"So you love me, huh?"  
"I wouldn't call it love… but… Admiration."

 

-


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blah blah blah some gay stuff, some funny stuff
> 
> Hey, do you guests mind commenting things? Like, not just 'Oh hell yeah fuck yeah wow what a fucking nice chapter man 10/10 mlg' But something like criticism? Like how do I make Dempsey sound? How do I make Takeo sound? Can you capture the feelings in this? *beatboxes* lemme know, son B)
> 
> Also, I would like to say that I'm going to do some fluff, okay? Bc no one in Nazi Zombies fandom likes fluff, but too bad because I'm going to do some. #Yolo Plus, I think they'd like snuggling or whatever…

Misfortunate Fate 

-

Chapter 8

 

Oh, how significant it felt when the other was at his side in bed. Sure, underclothes were to be kept on bodies and what not, but just having someone sleeping right next to him was great. Actually, Dempsey was laying against Richtofen's chest. A snore or two pushed from his nose. Edward continued stroking Dempsey's hair, a troublesome look controlling him.

It made him so weird and delicate when having another wrapped around in his arms. He didn't have a clue why. Maybe it was just the marine himself. Especially since they did confess their mutual respect and liking for each other. The German caressed Dempsey over and over—hands trembled as they tickled on the contours and exposed muscle of the American. A little laugh emanated from the devil dog's lips. This made Richtofen tense up and jump.

"Someone is awake?" Questioned Edward,  
"Nah, I've been awake the whole time."

Tank switched his head to the other side, letting a loud yawn out. The doctor hurriedly hushed him. "What's wrong with you? What if Nikolai or Takeo were to hear you, perhaps the zombies?" 

Dempsey laughed once again, a bit louder this time, "I hope they'll come in here. I want them to see that we're taking refuge."

The doctor sighed. He continued to pet the marine. "Gott, you're so juvenile. Have you any idea how scared I would be to look at them if they were to figure out? I am barely coping with the fact that Samantha could be watching us. Perhaps my former friends… Maxis…"

"It's not like they could hate me. I'm risking my life for you."

He crawled up to the German, nuzzling his nose within the other's neck. Richtofen looked away. He couldn't learn to accept this closeness. Besides, he's never experienced this before. The proximity between the two was making him feel especially impotent. 

Dempsey grazed the German's skin with the palm of his hand, rubbing his fingers across the man's collarbones then to his shoulder and behind the thick clothing. "Are you uncomfortable? Afraid?" Breathed Tank, an uneasy face occupying himself.

Richtofen bit the inside of his lip. He continued to look away from Dempsey. "No," Hastily replied Edward, "why would I be?" 

"You're shaking, doctor. I don't want you to be displeased," Replied he, 

Edward rose his arm—watching the wide palm and thin fingers tremble. How long was it going on like this? And why was he quaking so bad? "I'm not scared; I haven't a clue why I am trembling." Responded the doctor.

"Are you cold?"

He did have goosebumps. Maybe that was it afterall. Edward nodded, reaching for the comforter near himself. Before he had actually done so, Tank scooted further upon Edward; holding his wholesome and all. Richtofen's eyes widened. Before this, the closeness between the two was barely enough room to breathe. But now, it was barely enough room to think. The German then encircled his arms awkwardly onto the big marine. 

Dempsey had noticed this, looking up at the other, and arching his thin brow. "You okay? What, never sleep with someone in the same bed before, huh?"

Richtofen shook his head, "I've never shared such closeness either."

"Not even a hug?"  
"No."

The American continued a wooden expression. "So, you've never kissed anyone?" 

Richtofen faced away, struggling to move from underneath the man above him. This tête-à-tête wasn't all that enjoyable anymore, nor was being beneath the devil dog. Tank got from atop of Edward, as the doctor moved to the far end of the bed and lay sideways. 

"Goodnight, American."

 

-

 

Richtofen awoke. His eyelids were a bright red, as well as the usual whites of his eyes. There was a creak in his neck he refused to fix until he actually got up. And also that pain in his backside. He did sleep sitting up. Perhaps that was it. Edward yawned, stretching while doing so. Ugh, what was that smell? His under arms smelt like they were drenched in sweat; he just hoped it didn't carry the scent like that since last night. He was nervous, though. And sweating like a pig.

He looked around, wearily. Not a person in sight. And the day seemed at the utmost hour of dawn. It was late, at least for him to be up, and he figured the others went away to go slay the zombies.

'Perhaps this is my chance to go clean up,' Noted the doctor, standing from the croaking bed.

 

-

 

"Nice shot, Takeo!" 

The Japanese male looked at the American with subsidiary. A small nod was shared between them. As the undead rushed for the men, they had immediately been killed. Mostly from the Asian man. Today, he was very precise and accurate with eliminating the dead. He didn't seem very tolerable with them either; maybe it was from this morrow's experience. It started with a zombie battling the warrior for his own laundry, which he left lying over a metal pole outside anyways. 

He felt revenge was needed, so, revenge they got. 

"American, I feel as if we should do something about last generator. It is right there; we may all make sure it will be captured sufficiently." Piped Nikolai, pointing coldly at the machinery. Tank looked towards it. It was the only generator left. And Edward did say something about it bringing another reward to life. And also another Fire Staff piece, too.

"What the hell, why not?"

The three approached it, Nikolai slammed the button, and life sprung through generator 6. 

"Hold the area!" Called Takeo, guarding the metal from the electric zombies. 

It hadn't taken up too much time. What was done, was done, and the generator was fully functioning. Also, they had grabbed the head of a Fire Staff piece. "All the generators are up and running." Told Tank, looking towards the glistening cylinder that shot at the Excavation Site. In fact, they all looked. "What is that?" Asked Takeo, dropping his hands at his sides in disbelief.

Trying to conjure explanation, Nikolai stumbled his tongue across his lips; not sure what to say about it either. He looked at Dempsey. Dempsey had already been walking towards the sight. 

"I ain't got a clue, but we're about t’figure out…"

 

-

"It must be one of Richtofen's crazy machines..." Tank said,  
"It has French scripting, though." Replied Nikolai, 

Six discs rotated and smoldered in blue. Dempsey scratched his chin, recalling that blue color from the element. Oh yeah, element 115.

"It must be the same shit that Richtofen injected into me when I was unconscious." Pointed out Dempsey, reaching a hand towards the vibrant sky color. Nikolai smacked Tank's hand, shaking his head all the while. 

"Are you crazy? Putting a hand in such a machine? It looks too big for hands."  
"Really? Then what do you suggest we put in there?"

The men looked at Takeo, who had been inching his AK47 to the Pack a Punch. 

"I'm sure it is for upgrading these…" Murmured the Japanese male. They waited, and waited; the machine sucked the weaponary in, made a few bizarre sounds, then showcased a brand new weapon. It hadn't even looked like the same one.

"What in Rasputin's name could this mean?" Gasped Belinski, resting a hand on the machine, "Is this fictious or not?!"

Takeo took the weapon once more, sliding the magazine out and examining it. "New bullets, but how could this be?"

"We need to go find the doctor."

 

-

 

"Ah, finally…" Whispered the doctor, drying his locks with a short cloth. The water was warm today; usually it would be as cold as the outside was when it snowed.

The German stalked down the hallways of the abandoned areas, then made it back to his original base. Once he had got their, he realized he left his clothes. It was all too late to go back. It was snowing, now. And he had to run through the outside with only a towel on once already. Shit.

The doctor sighed, plopping on one of the many bunk beds and waited. Maybe he'd just get someone to get his clothes for him. 

"Doctor!" 

Ah, perfect timing. The German ran to the door, looking out of it and awaiting for the men. Yet, they didn't appear. He swore he wasn't going crazy just yet, and truly did hear the Russian's voice After some time, the doctor backed away from the door, assuming the others just weren't there.

As the German turned around, there stood all of the men, which happened to give the doctor a fright. As he had jumped from fear, his towel had come down… 

Richtofen widened his eyes, the others reciprocated.

There was silence. And it was very awkward before anyone had courage to say a thing.

"That is not the weapon we had in mind to talk about…" Whispered Dempsey.

 

-


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a lazy chapter, enjoy!

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 9

 

"It is just a simple upgrading machine. I do not know what else to tell you all." Richtofen sat down into a seat at the table, as the men had took time to gander at the weapon. New splotches of teal coated around it. The gun emanated an unusual warmth, yet still carried cool steel. 

"Well when we went over to the upgrade… thingie, we saw French scripture," Tank said, poking awkwardly at the barrel of the weapon. 

Edward smiled, nodding as well, "Ah, the language of Romance."

"I'll say."

Takeo scoffed, retrieving his weapon all the while. Nikolai stay quiet; still observing the gun as he had done so. It was so bizarre. He knew he didn't sign up for this, with all of those simple war campaigns. It must have been false advertising—if he knew there would be things like such, he wouldn't have ever joined. Then again, his mission was to take Richtofen back to his base in Siberia. That wouldn't be happening anytime soon, though. Everybody seemed to make friends for now. Even Takeo.

"So, must this mean you speak French?" Asked Nikolai,  
"Oui."

"As impressive as your knowledge skills are, I do suggest you learn more about battle, Richtofen. You did not join us today with fighting the demons." Takeo spoke, closing his eyes and crossing his arms, "Even as easier it was without you, I do suggest you pick up a gun." Tank glared at the Japanese man coldly, "Who the hell's authority did you gain overnight, Tak?" 

Masaki leaned towards Dempsey, staring back at him. "No one's. I'm doing my job of informing my teammates as to what they should be doing better. As for you, Dempsey, I feel you should be more sufficient keeping your focus away from the doctor."

"What's that s’pposed to mean?"  
"I'm sure you can comprehend. Or do I have to announce what I saw the other night."

The warrior stood from the table, unhooking the strap of his weapon from the side, and then left with no words or any further explanation.

The three stay silent. Well, at least the two of them.

"I don't know what crawled up his ass and died," Lastly retorted Dempsey.

Nikolai looked at Richtofen, Richtofen continued to keep his eyes on the ground. 

"We… were more successful with the killing of the zombies. We had even got another Generator on." Belinski said.

Richtofen nodded, "Which one?"

The Russian placed a red piece onto the table. Richtofen nodded again. 

"I will see comrades later. I must go and purchase from mysterious weaponary box." Nikolai said, patting Tank on his shoulder, then going to leave. 

Dempsey looked at Richtofen, and the doctor looked back. The marine placed his hand atop of Richtofen's. 

"I'm sorry th—"  
"You have nothing to be sorry about. Their words are true, my skills in handling rifles and other weaponary is… very limited."

 

-

 

"What was that about, Takeo? Why must you be so aggressive towards Richtofen?"

The Japanese man shook his head; his hands caressed and disassembled pieces of his weapons, and then cleaned them thoroughly with a cloth. 

"Why are you asking me? Surely you must be curious. And dull." Retorted Takeo. He grappled the magazine, checking if there was enough ammunition in the cartridge. Once he had done so, he shifted the rectangular metal back into the gun and pulled the hammer back. "You seem tense about something. Do tell Nikolai." Pleaded the Slavic, patting the chair across from himself. 

Takeo looked to the Russian. He was sure he could trust him with the oncoming topic. He did want to be more of a ‘friend’ to him anyways. So, the warrior strolled to the seat and slumped down into it. They shared a moment of silence, before they had actually discussed Masaki's ‘problem.’ 

He shifted uncomfortably. Then he scooted closer to Nikolai. "I wish to free the trapped girl quickly. For, we have taken too much time with such a thing. The sooner this is over, the sooner the apocalypse will be at an end."

Nikolai nodded gradually. He understood; he was just thinking about doing so as well. Hell, he even knew Samantha didn't deserve being trapped in Agartha. She seemed like a nice girl. It reminded him of his little sister; timid, but angry when she didn't get her way. It made the Russian laugh inwardly.

"I see."

 

-

 

"I'm sorry, I cannot sing you a lullaby."

Edward chuckled, stroking Tank's hair, as the marine learned to snicker as well.

"You ain't gotta sing me a lullaby, doctor," Replied he, feeling his fingers through the kinky, curled locks on Edward's chest, "just keep up with stroking my hair." Richtofen shrugged, continuing to feel the silky run-through strands of brown. "I didn't know that'd put you to sleep so fast. Speaking of sleep—do I snore?"

"Yes."  
"Goodness… Loud?"  
"Very loud."

The German exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to. It's just… these beds are very soft." Muttered the man, very lowly. Tank nods in agreement, tightening his hold around the doctor's torso. "I know—we used to sleep on rocks and dirt. Just sitting in one of these beds is like… like…"

"Like a cloud?"  
"Or a big marshmallow."

The men laughed. 

Tank pressed his lips against Edward's chest—trailing the petty smooches up to the crook of his neck. Then, the American continued to kiss right there. Richtofen made unsure vocals, mimicking a cry of a child. Tank nibbled and suckled against the area, then let off after the German had grumbled loudly.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away." Apologized Dempsey.

Dempsey rested against Edward again. He inhaled softly, then a bit more roughly. "You smell good. Did you shower?" Questioned Dempsey, trailing his fingers to the side of the doctor's torso. "Ja, err yes. When you were gone, I was showering. Which was why I was…"

Tank laughed slightly, making sure the doctor wouldn't feel awkward in such conversation. He hoped he didn't—Edward had at least one thing to be proud for. "Hey, at least I got your clothes back for you."

"Yes, but the others. They saw me exposed," Countered Edward,  
"You don't care if I see you naked?"  
"Well, no. Not really. We are bound to see each other in that state one day, correct?"

The devil dog sat up, sitting next to the man rather than staying atop him. "You think we can last that long? I don't mean that unkindly either,"

"‘Rudely,’ and I'm more than knowing to be certain we can. Why, opposites attract. American, German. Strong and… docile." 

Tank took Edward's hand. "Yeah, I don't know how you're so tough." 

Edward laughed a bit, smiling gladly at his ally. Why had his heart been so audible in his ears and why was his face so hot? It was Dempsey of course, but he was so skeptical to see the bravest, and strongest, man of their group be so mushy and sweet. It gave Richtofen unexplainable feelings in his heart and mind, why did he enjoy this ‘new’ side of the American?

Richtofen pulled Tank into the bedding once again, hugging him tightly as he rested against the devil dog's body this time. Soon, the brace of men fell into a deep, sweet sleep.

 

-


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some back talk,  
> And some lip lock.
> 
> Thanks for bookmarking/liking aquari0n  
> Thanks for the reads, guests!  
> Thanks for the kudos, guests!

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 10

 

"Morning, gentlemen."

Richtofen slid his weapon onto the wooden, chipped table. Splinters peeled from the surface as other guns, grenades, knives, and his Boreas' Fury was placed down. 

"Hello, Richtofen," Softly greeted Takeo, "I assume you feel more confident for battle today." Edward nodded, reloading his weaponary and then sharpening his knife. At least he tried to; the tool he had used continued to slip from his grasp. Nikolai rolled his eyes, snatching the dull blade from the other man's hands.

"Bah, I've never seen such an uncoordinated male before," Spat the Russian, "I'm sure my sister could sharpen a pencil better." Edward scowled—narrowing his eyes to the Russian—snatching the weapon from the man. "I'm sure a man would have enough brains to know that you cannot sharpen a knife at that degree of an angle. 90 degrees is barely enough to do such a thing, and you can severely injure your hand. So hold it the other way and strike the metal at a quick pace."

Edward scraped the metal quickly, the knife cooperating with him while he had done such. Soon, the blade was sharp. Two narrowed edges came to a sharp tip, along with a convex center. The doctor slapped the flat edge to the Slavic's chest, handing him the cutter. "But I don't intend of fighting them with a knife today. That'd be idiotic for someone who can barely shoot a gun. You can have it."

Takeo widened his eyes. Tank walked into the room; he observed the silence for a while. 

"What's up, guys? What's going on?" Questioned the American, shifting his tricky gaze between the three. Richtofen retrieved his gun, grenades, and staff. He hooked them to his attire, and turned on his heel. "Let's go. We don't have time to idle."

 

-

 

Finally, the Fire Staff had been created. After Samantha had dropped hints that the next piece was in the skies, a plane actually, the men had found to take it down and retrieve the last piece. Unwillingly, Nikolai had taken it into hand. He didn't have a clue what to do with it, nor how to work such a tool. But after a teaching from Dempsey, he had learned. And he had loved it. 

Such a fiery tool, such a great one. Nikolai loved the flaming spheres that flew from the head of the luminescent rod. The way the zombies crinkled into ash once they were done for, and their final yelp to call before their ultimate death. Belinski percieved the staff as himself. Perhaps that was why he loved terminating them with such a piece of artillery.

"The fire will burn you like a ferocious dragon's breath!" Bellowed the mighty Slavic. 

"Damn, Nikolai! Save some zombies for us!" Called Dempsey, swinging his sharp staff at his first, and perhaps last, zombie. As he'd done so, a bright orange orb flew to the blue outlined box. The American arched his eyebrow, "Something's happening here!"

The doctor turned his glance to the marine, then to the box he was standing over. Many souls were being collected already; why did the American take time to question about it now?

"Their energy is being refocused. Like the other ancient objects, it will soon transform and change the world around us!"

The others continued to kill the flesh eaters, some coming too close for comfort now. "I hope it changes things for the better!" Responded Tank.

Later on, the living dead had decreased in numbers, and diminished until they had been completely gone for today. 

Edward tossed his staff to the sidelines, taking out a bottle of cleansing alcohol and a cotton tissue. He dabbed the product to the cloth, and pressed it to his injured forehead. "Ah, good work today gentlemen," Spoke the doctor, "I am proud in each and every one of you." 

Takeo closed the space between him and Edward, narrowing his cocoa-colored eyes to a splotch on the German's neck. The warrior pointed at it and tilted his head in confusion. 

"What is this, German? Have you been infected?" 

Richtofen widened his eyes, feeling the spot for himself. It was flat. He didn't feel any bumps. "That's cockamamie. How could I be infected?" Answered Edward, hiding his neck with his pure flannel. Tank quickly stalked towards the doctor, grabbing his hand. "I better check that out!" Jested the nautical, pulling Edward along with him.

Takeo looked at Nikolai. He shrugged.

 

-

 

"What is it? Am I alright?"

Edward continued to expose his neck to the American. 

"Yeah, it's just a little mark from me. Remember? Last night?" Breathed the corporal. The German bent an eyebrow. He didn't recall a thing. The last thing he remembered was pulling covers over himself and Dempsey. Possibly it was before that. The doctor's face lit with shock as it had come to mind. "You mean that buss on my neck? It left a mark?" Inquired the doctor, erecting from where he sat, "For how long will it be there?"

Tank raised his shoulders. "I don't have a clue. A few days or so?" 

Edward cuffed the other man on the face, ludically. "You knew this whole time, and did not care to tell me!" Postulated Richtofen. Dempsey held his cheek, stroking the mildly hot flesh that stung there.

"Yeah. But I didn't think they'd see it." Jibed the maritime. 

The medic stalked away, retrieving his medical equipment and then returning to his partner. He sat before him, sliding Dempsey's sleeve back, and revealing the grown arm muscle he had presented. Edward's eyelids peeled back, his countenance holding shock. "Wow, you're arm is very…" And he left it at that, until he uttered a soft 'yeesh.'

Tank grinned handsomely and flexed. "Yeah, I know. It's not bad, huh?" 

Richtofen continued to observe it. His fingers danced against the hardened bicep. "Not at all. I don't think we have to inject anything anymore. Your body is beyond… well, what you had started at. You are more muscular, and I swear you've grown everyday since. You used to be shorter than me." Doctor stood; going and placing his tools back. 

"Yeah, now I'm two inches taller." Informed Dempsey,  
"One and a half."  
"I'll take it."

The German tittered, continuing his walk around the room. He stared at the many bits and knick knacks that surrounded the shelves and such. That's strange. He knew there used to be a few vodka bottles around here. Just where could they have gone now? "Dempsey, did you take a few bottles from over here?"

"No. Why?"  
"Hm. Just wondering."

Edward shook it off—surely he must have been thinking of another room or something. Maybe the other two held them hostage. Tank strides to the man, "Hey did you fix that scratch? The one when we finished killing the freak bags? And the one before?" 

Richtofen shook his head, dismissing that and signalling 'no.'

"Let me play doctor—I can help." Offered Dempsey, taking the alcohol canteen from Edward, then his handkerchief. He dabbed the cloth, then pressed it to his partner's head. Richtofen hissed at the pain for a while, then learnt to accept it; leaning into Dempsey's hand. He continued cleansing the wound, making sure it was no longer blood, but just a soft contusion. Richtofen looked towards the working man, his focus stuck on aiding the German. His face stuck in concentration.

The green eyed man's heart pounds in his chest, almost wishing to escape the imprisonment of his ribs. He wasn't certain that he had ever felt this before, that the muscle in his chest had throbbed so quickly, so deeply. The air had gotten tense, once the soldier looked down at the doctor, catching Edward staring so dumbfounded at the man. Richtofen's breathing had gotten so heavy, so unsteady once they caught each other's eyes.

Dempsey smiled, ogling the doctor. Had that little speckle of tan always been on his upper cheek? And was he always so embarrassed around Tank?

Quickly, Richtofen looked away. He inches away from the hand that cared to caress him, then smacks it away as it began to persist in holding on. A rather bizarre cough erupted from deep within Edward's throat. "Uhm, thank you, Dempsey." Whispered he. 

Tank continued his soft stare upon the slightly shorter man. His cheeks were dead from the deep rouge color, now he was pale. Then, the devil dog leant down a bit—pressing his lips against the doctor's cheek. 

Richtofen narrowed his attention to the marine. He looked into uncertain baby blues, "Did you kiss me?"

The American hadn't felt too positive that what he did was right, as of now. He was sure Edward had boundaries, but he didn't think it'd be a kiss, right? "Sorry, I should've asked." Mumbled Dempsey, handing the cleaning equipment back,

"Can I kiss you back?"  
"What?"

The doctor stood onto his toes, yanking the marine's arm down—reaching his lips up to Dempsey's and planting his own to the other soft pink flesh. Dempsey had immediately kissed back. Their noses brushed against one another as they engaged in an enchanting osculation; Tank's narrow thumb arising to the doctor's chin as they continued the endearment.

Edward's hands clamped onto Tank's jawline, while he pulled him closer and remained persistent with the kiss. The marine's hands traveled to his partner's waist, pulling him especially close and feeling around on his backside. Richtofen gasped at the sudden touching, yet lingered on Tank's lips for a little while longer. Soon did their mouths open; intaking flesh, biting and teasing one another consistently. Dempsey's tongue hustled through Richtofen's teeth, and swirled in between his lips. 

It was a while before they had done anything besides that, plus Tank had to take a breather.

"Should I doubt that'd be your first kiss?" Exhaled Tank, still obviously infatuated with the lips of his lover."It was my first time, indeed. Might I say, it was very enjoyable." Opposed Richtofen, pulling away from his partner and taking the items from his hands all the while. Tank respired intensely, holding his own pair of pink. He'd been damned such a man could plant one on him like that. Especially if it was his first time. He'd only imagine the other things he could've been naturally good at. 

"Damn," Tank spoke aloud, a satisfied smirk playing upon his lips. Richtofen continued on with cleaning around the room, avoiding what had just happened as if it never did. Dempsey was in another state, though. His mind wandered ludicrously, deviantly. And all he was thinking about was Edward. He hadn't even been aware that the doctor had left the room.

But when he went to ask a question, he realized this, and had soon left also.

 

-


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gey stuff

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 11

 

Weeks passed by, the brave soldiers (and doctor) had all pressed on with endeavoring to free the lost girl. In the time being, new skills were acquired. This included one of the most ancient melee attacks of all time. The first ancestors of the men, or the Primis, had named it Unum Inch Ut Ferrum. This had all roughly translated to a punch that would that knock an enemy far back, or completely dispose of the surrounding undead—Richtofen had found out all of this.

The group of four seemed to enjoy it. It brought a smile to Takeo's face. In fact, he was the one who founded happiness from it the most. The ragdoll bodies the zombies possessed after the warrior would blow the cretins back was just to fun to ignore. It totally made him feel back at home as well. Now if he could only return home, and have another martial arts battle with his fellow friends and warriors… 

It was a long day. Too long of one. Nikolai came close to sleeping on the job, Dempsey had two near death experiences, and Edward swore he lost his remaining skill with shooting the undead. So, it was really a rough day for three of them. Masaki was all smirks and overweening.

"Tis been a long day, gentlemen. I suggest we all relax for a bit." Spoke Richtofen. He rubbed at his sore neck, gritting his teeth as he had pressed onto a tense spot. Nikolai set his weapons down, dabbing the trickling sweat from his brow and fuzzy beard. He then removed his jacket; a stained tanktop took shelter on his semi-portly body. He rested into a chair, fanning his face. 

"Hey, guys. Check it out." Called Dempsey. He walked into the room, exposing a card deck in his palms. The three paid their spans to the marine. Interested faces conjured onto expressions...

 

-

 

The group shared laughs, over a few jokes and short stories the Russian had been telling, whilst they played cards. As three men placed in their bets, Edward was stumped; if anything, he was sure as hell that it was going to be a tricky fold. And besides, he had been looking at his unconventional ally's cards, as they would lean forward or obliviousy show him their hand.

Cunning bastard. For all he knew, the American man would bust, if he was going to pick up the next card in the shuffled pile. Edward eventually placed the cards on the table, and called in.

"Hit." Demanded Nikolai. The foggy greens opened wider—probably shocked that he had counted wrong—and he snorted. "Bust..." He uttered, pathetically. And after the Russian, it was the American whom had followed down the path. His cards had added up, to where they went a little over twenty one.

Takeo eyed Richtofen; he hadn't called a card, and it was now for the Japanese man to decide. Hit? Or pass? Injudiciously, he called pass. As the rivals had flipped their cards over, the gentlemen of the group had scoffed. Curses and prayers flew through the air. Richtofen had managed to win—getting a weeks worth of ammunition from Nikolai and a new gun from Takeo.

Edward looked to Dempsey, who was bitterly cleaning his nails. He sucked at his teeth and sighed.

"And, where is your ‘bet,’ American?"

Dempsey looked at the German. He settled his hand back at his side.

"I'll give it to you later. I don't have anything on me now," Quipped he,  
"Very well."

Edward pushed his seat back. The old, rotten wood creaked as he stepped studiously throughout the large headquarters. "I will go now. I have to shower and soon be off to slumber." Informed Edward.

Takeo noised with acknowledgement, while Nikolai had done otherwise. "You are going to leave us now? Perhaps stay for another game, Richtofen. Or test your strength against me, Takeo and Dempsey. We will arm battle in a few moments." 

The doctor smiled, shaking his head as well. "I fear I cannot. Sleep is very important to me. And I don't think I'd stand a chance against any of you. For, you will all want to seek revenge from the last card game. I'm rather tired."

As he had left, the American looked at Takeo… And shrugged.

 

-

 

Irresistibly warm water cruised down the German's strained dermis. Steam enveloped his body, as he was sentenced to enjoy the stinging waters for now. He didn't want to reach for the glass knob just yet; the temperature was just about to reach it's peak of searing tap. 

Richtofen washed his body. Suds from a cut-off soap bar spread and squish against his torso. Bubbles formed, his hands took care to lather the white cream onto his body hair. Edward inhales the mist, some of the tiny specks of water getting trapped onto his mustache. 

His break was intervened. The sound of the heavy door opening and closing caught his attention. For a second he had thought that was just in his head, but after reevaluting it (and listening to naked feet pat against the floor) his attention was drawn to the moment. It broke his focus from the shower, which was getting hotter and hotter… 

"Hello?" He called, stepping off of the wide, white stall, "Is someone else here?"

No answer. It was definetly in his head, he was sure of it. A zombie would have attacked by now, and someone would've spoken up. 

The German decided it was best to leave this behind, and enjoy the rest of his cleansing. Soap coated his body like a wedding dress upon a beautiful woman. The water shot at his skin like hornets on prey. 

Suddenly, hands came at Richtofen's sides. Trailing around his waist from behind, the arms securely fit onto him. The doctor jumped at the sudden other, his heart would thud louder within his breast.

"Relax, Edward. It's just me."

Oh, thank whoever rested on the clouds above. It felt so relieving to know it was his other half. Otherwise he would have tooken the time to scream and cry out for his dear life. Edward held onto the forearms of Tank, pressing further back onto his mutual. Dempsey was completely naked, too. Edward began to revel in how nigh he was to the other. Skin pressed against skin, one's body draping over the other.

Richtofen cared to lean into the cool lips that pressed against his boiling skin. He even began to moan in relaxation. Dempsey persisted with pecking his partner's neck, his arms gradually travelling up Richtofen's body. His hands began to massage and prod against the tense shoulders of Edward, working rather incredibly. Richtofen noised with appeasement, sinking into his beau. 

"You're so stiff, doctor," Said Dempsey. The German nodded; he was all in agreement with what his partner had to say. He was stressed, which lead to more tension, and everything else. 

Besides, running around while carrying a large machine gun wasn't that fun at all.

"Ja," Agreed Richtofen, "I kind of have the fate of the world in my hands. Also, I was the root of unleashing hell on Earth." 

"And I'll be here with you, every step of the way."  
"Oh, Dempsey…"

Another moan. 

Another tender intimacy.

The minor smooches soon lead to the men locking lips. Richtofen turned to face his inamorato, becoming more enveloped with the French kiss. Bites. Licks. Caresses and feelings. The men headed their way into another stage of this; their fondling becoming more down-low and intense.

Edward couldn't believe this was happening. The way the rough palm grappled around his lower figure and pumped without end. The doctor had to hold onto Dempsey, so he could get some type of succoring. He arched his back in his partner's hand, rotating his wet hips all around in the other one. There was no way he would make it. Stars invaded his sight. His hold on the American was becoming somewhat weak. "What is this? What is happening?" Questioned the weary man. Dempsey pressed his lips deeper onto Richtofen's—he pulled away after quite some time. "I don't know, doctor. What is happening?"

In all honesty, Edward was serious. He had not a thing to know about this newfounded pleasure. He didn't know such areas could evoke this feeling. 

Quicker, quicker, quicker… 

Oh fuck, what was *that.* A feeling had churned in his lower stomach. Tank's hand pressed on with jacking the doctor. He twisted and pulled the hardness. "Nein, nein! Warum es sich so gut?" Spoke the trembling man. Stars invaded his eyes. He couldn't even see Tank clearly anymore. He wasn't even holding onto him; Dempsey took the initiative to clutch the man before he had fallen to his feet. 

The sensation was getting worse and worse. Richtofen didn't know what to expect—the marine's hand traveled as if it were trying to achieve something. It starts to burn, or was it the water finally arousing to his senses? Either way, Edward knew he had to get away from the marine. He squirmed, pushing Dempsey away as he had done so. No matter how hard he tried, Tank continued on and got closer and closer. 

As the German tried to speak, he found himself on the B-side of the record. He couldn't speak. His throat was dry, probably from obliviously panting too much. He was screwed—so he thought for now.

With the last push of energy he had left in his body, the man yelped: "Stop!"

Dempsey looks at the red faced, broken German. His eyes were puffy and his lips trembled from fear. And with Edward's request, Tank did just that—letting go of him, watching the body drop like a dead man. That wasn't a good idea. Edward injured his head on the fall, a sharp pain stabbing the back of his head. That was going to leave a bruise.

"Oh God, are you okay Richtofen?"

His nose was bleeding. 

'What do you think, American?'

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone."

Red oozed from his right nostril, his upper lip stained with the fluid. It was all soon washed away—he scooted beneath the nozzle of the shower. Suddenly, the water stopped.

Edward looked at Tank, who had turned it off, who had muffled curses spreading from his lips, too.

Richtofen sighed, stalking off to his attire and fitting it on (well, his undergarments at least). Dempsey soon got the memo, dressing again also. "Sorry, Richtofen. If it means anything."

Edward waved it off like it was nothing, "It's fine. Goodnight, Dempsey."

He then left the marine alone, and hustled off to his bedroom.

 

-


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eeh?   
> Thanks for the kudos and reads, nerds B)

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 12

 

No words were dared to be spoken between the men. That of which was all of them—excluding Takeo. He hadn't a clue why the crew was so silent, except Nikolai. The Russian had almost died again, and if it wasn't for Takeo's last second drop-in, he would've perished. Anyways, he found himself in some concern of the other two, but decided it was best to stay in his place. Besides, now he didn't have to hear any witty speaking from any of them. He doubted it was anything serious, too. God knows it could have been fussing over who would get to wield a certain staff or whatever. Takeo's concerns, in general, were unaroused.

Breakfast was heavy to swallow. Literally. Nothing was satisfying enough for any of the men; Edward tried a piece of the ration, and tried to toss it back up. Disgusting. He's tasted dirt better than that. The man stuck to ‘coffee,’ raising himself from the seat and going towards the mugs that rested on the table. He took one, this time placing a bag of the grinds into his cup, and poured water into it. 

Eventually, he had finished brewing it, and sipped eagerly at the steaming cup. It was better than the last time he had tasted it. The last time he did, there were grinds all in the water and plain dissatisfaction.

"This food reminds me of frozen wasteland Russia is," Nikolai told, throwing his bread across the room. Tank nodded, spitting out a piece of the stale wheat, and brushing off his mouth.

"Yeah, no kidding. Next time I'll be in charge of getting food supplies."  
"I apologize everyone. I was in a bit of a rush," Replied Takeo, 

Tank shook his hand, implying everything was fine. Nikolai had done the same. But not Edward. In fact, he wasn't even paying attention. He was in a completely different world. He contemplated about the boxes with electric blue. They needed to be filled up, right? About 100 souls per box? That wouldn't be a good way to split the zombies. Teams of two would be best—

"Excuse me, Richtofen," Spoke the Russian, 

Edward jumped from the booming voice, his coffee sprouts from it's cup as well and had pounced onto Nikolai's face. 

Steaming brown coated the Slavic's face—he roared in pain as he covered it also. 

"Goodness, Nikolai! I am so very sorry!" Apologized Edward, trying to frantically dab his face with a handkerchief. But Nikolai refused; he pushed Richtofen down, and wiped the hot liquid from his face. 

The others stood, Takeo going to help Edward, Tank going to help Nikolai.

"What the hell was that for, Russian?"  
"Did you not see? He threw coffee into my eyes!"

Richtofen gasped, the accusation had upset him further. Maybe he should've hit him with the cup instead. "Liar! It was an accident!" 

"Was it?"  
"It was, Takeo!"  
"Dempsey, did you see what happened?"

Tank kept a blank face, then shook his head. "No, I didn't see what happened."

Edward widened his eyes. Usually, Dempsey would be the one to take his side. But, why not now? Was it because of last night?

The doctor grit his teeth, stomping away from the others.

"Fine, then. Let's just go."

 

-

 

Richtofen did apologize again, but it was low key, and not really sympathetic.

The damage was good too. Nikolai had a purpling-red spot, that trailed from his cheeks to his chin. It surprised Takeo very much, when he was the one left to care for it. He wouldn't let the doctor touch him, and he would have confronted Tank for not believing him from the start. Anyways, Takeo didn't do such a great job in healing the wound. He didn't have much testing in the medical field. All he was, was a servant of the Emperor, placed into battle.

"Dempsey, I suggest a better apology to Nikolai would be most mature." Said Masaki, eliminating the demonic corpses. Dempsey tutted, shaking his head also. He couldn't believe it. Takeo asked him to say sorry over something that the Russian felt victimized about. The Slavic should've let go of all of this. It was an hour ago.

"I ain't going to say another word to him, I didn't even take sides. He needs to understand that. If anything, he should be mad at the German." Retorted Dempsey. He directed his anger on killing the undead masses. Takeo didn't deserve any of his aggression and was definitely fragile-on-line to talk to right now. Takeo didn't have a good breakfast, which made him upset and hard to converse with.

Sirens began sounding in the air. Oh. No.

This indicated one of the armored zombies to reign from the sky again. It didn't happen near Takeo or Dempsey—they were killing the undead on private terms. Nikolai decided to go away for now, and Edward had to go tend to some other business. The soldiers looked into the sky, a Panzer Soldat crashed over to the Excavation Site. The same place Richtofen needed to go.

"Do you need help defeating the robot?" Piped Nikolai, a few yards away.

The thing wasn't even here. This gave clear indication of where it was… 

 

-

 

His arm was already caught in some flame from the armored undead. Shit. If he knew it would've came at this moment, he would not have even thought of leaving the others.

Zombies had been tracking him down. A large group of zombies followed behind the helpless doctor. His Wind Staff was working fine, but if he hadn't left it lying around back at Generator 5… 

He would have to use his bare hands for now; punches were delivered to the mass. But as he continued to run along, the horde had multiplied. And multiplied. And multiplied…

The German called for help, but no one could hear him over the sound of the iron feet slamming repeatedly onto the wooden boards. Tears formed in his eyes, as he tried and tried to rid of the walking corpses. Some had left the world for sure, and he even swore that the Panzer was going down shortly. 

His leather boots rubbed rawly against his shins whilst he had dashed. He was quick—Stamin Up made sure of that—but his swings and One Inch Punch was not as damaging as the thought. As he had stumbled upon a log, the German fell down, with a mighty 'Oomph!' escaping his lips. The enemy was coming rapidly and Edward could not get up. His leg was completely injured from the fall, and his body was too weak to do a thing. But with his remaining strength, as the large soldier pulled him forth with his claw; consisting of penetrative spikes and all; the man thrusted his hand forwards.

The Panzer let off of him. It stumbled backwards and fell; a glowing green nuclear weapon glistening in the lights. Richtofen grappled at it. His fingers fell through, while Samantha said the magic word, and the dead had fallen down like flaming leaves.

"Ka-Boom!"

The doctor lay there. His body completely wounded from the mini giant's claw and fire. He thought he was a goner for sure. He could barely speak when it came the time to. Suddenly, drops of water pitter pattered from the skies. Rain had covered the German as he stay there powerless… Weak… 

"Edward!"

With minimum energy resting in his body, Richtofen opens his eyes and looks at two men rushing from the entrance of No Man's land. Dempsey was the first to come along, but that was expected.

"Oh, fuck," Cursed the marine, reaching for his wounded doctor, holding him after, "Edward, talk to me. Edward!"

He couldn't speak. But it wasn't from injury. It was from hearing how desperate and hurt Tank sounded once he saw him. It would be the German's fault if he would have died. He didn't know how the devil dog would carry such a burden. He was so young. He did not deserve to experience this alone!

The doctor cried into Dempsey's chest, and Dempsey did the same. 

He was shaking. Oh god, he was shaking. Fear was his ultimate destroyer now. He couldn't feel a bone in his body. Tank kissed the German's forehead, pulling him close with his gelatin arms.

Then, Dempsey had felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, Takeo stood there. An expressionless expression covered the warrior, but it seemed that he notified the American that he understood. He understood the tears, the embrace, the feelings… 

The marine nodded back, drying his tears, and continued to hold his beloved.

"It's okay, Richtofen," Whispered the quaking American, "You're fine. You're okay…"

 

-


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some drinks  
> Some gossip  
> Thanks for the kudos and reads B)
> 
> I had to slow the process of adding my chapters, because I was slowing the production of them lmao but yeah here you guys go.

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 13

 

It had taken the doctor a while to recover from such nasty scars. His body wasn't used to such fatal abrasions. The worst he had ever gotten from this apocalypse was a head injury. And that wasn't even from a zombie.

It was a week since the scars were assigned to Edward's skin. It was also a week since the others had put in extensive care for Richtofen, even Nikolai. They had to make sure he was alright, since he was the only one who understood any of what was happening. Eventually, the wounds were only faded memories.

Dempsey exhaled, the hot breath fed through crisp air and evaporated. It was cold. He hadn't been aware of the constant, varying weather patterns. It was very strange—he wondered if Samantha controlled the weather, too. She did seem miserable enough in Agartha to fuck with the conditions and have some fun. The skies were grey-blue, and it was snowing...

Anyways, the marine moved along to the indoors—lugging the crawler-in-a-bag along with him. He didn't have a clue why the zombies (with gams) didn't want to attack the group, until this one would expire. He hoped that wouldn't be soon. He had business to take care of with Edward. And it was going to be some while.

He appeared before the room he knew the German was in—the same room Tank had to be hospitalized when he tried to destroy the Panzer Soldat alonesome. He could just remember the day he awoke from the concussion. Richtofen was so surprised he fainted. It brought a smile to his lips. The devil dog reached into his coat, carefully removing the flowers that rest in there. They looked a bit wilted—the bud and petals were fine, except for the stem that held it upwards. Tank frowned at this, but decided it was best to ignore it. He had to worry about more important matters.

Tank recited the words in his mind before he had gone in there—slowly pushing the door ajar, and narrowing his sight right onto Edward. He lay on the bed, a book in his palms. But that had changed once he saw Dempsey, since he had actually dropped the book. 

"Dempsey," nearly stutters the German,

Richtofen fumbled for his book, plucking it from the ground with shaky hands.

Tank laughed lightly, admiring the Milquetoast—Edward's body became stiff behind glad rags, and his brow puckered upwards. As he had continued to fail for trying to retrieve the book, he sat straight up. "I didn't expect a visit from you."

"You look bent, doc."  
"I haven't had a drink since that night."

Tank hoped to change that. With all this wine laying around these bunkers, he might as well had a chance to do something with it. He took a bottle from the nearest dresser; one that was never opened; moving along to Richtofen.

"I say, what's the meaning of all of this? The flowers also?" Asked Edward, eagerly making room for his partner on the matress. Tank sat down, handing the camellia boquet to Edward, then broke open the bottle of liquor. "An apology. For what had happened the other night; I didn't expect you to—"

"I accept your apology, Tank."  
"Tell it to Sweeney."

Richtofen smiled softly as his love presented flowers before him—taking one of the many pink plants and fitting it nicely behind his ear. Dempsey took a swig of the alcohol straight from bottle, then handed it over to Edward. He observed the rim of the narrow wine for a moment's worth, then took it into his hands. With his sleeve, he skimmed the opening and soon drank from it. ‘Oh, he'll cash me and cash me over and over, but he still doesn't want to sip from the same hands,’ Thought Dempsey.

 

-

 

Nikolai just wondered where his partner in crime wandered off to. Takeo wasn't one to be picked from the bushes of closeness at this hour of the day. Plus, he didn't really enjoy lurking ominously from bunker to bunker. Just… where was he?

Belinski and Masaki had already been ahead of the other two. Their rewards had already been accounted for, but not spent off yet. The Russian was well aware of the three gifts from the ancients—a ‘magic potion,’ Max Ammo, and a fully functional all-around fun-gun—plus the One Inch Punch. He wouldn't use any of that yet. Perhaps a day when he would go down… 

Not a moment too soon did Takeo walk in. His face dark and stale. 

"Takeo, what news does one bring? If there is any at all. Must you need to tell me another thing?"

The Japanese nodded. "Ah, sit down. Have a drink."

Takeo refused anymore sippings of wine, but when he saw new bottles escaping the cooped, heavy jacket of the Russian he knew he was in for a treat. Let alone a surprise.

"What do we have here, Russian?" Solemnly asked Takeo, leaning to the glasses of clearness. 

"Ahem…"  
"Oh, my apologies. I meant, ‘Nikolai.’" 

A full smile fit onto the cheerful man's expression. Their relationship was getting more improved at this rate. He needed it—the other two were always together, just what in heaven's name were they doing! And Takeo was quiet anyways. Nikolai wanted for him to break from the shell of ally, and name the Slavic his well known friend. "Would Takeo like a drink? It is vodka." He spoke, 

The warrior's eyes examined the—many—containers on the tabletop. He took one and removed the lid. The smell was absolutely intoxicating; absolutely divine. His tongue dipped into the hole. The taste was stinging; was sweet. It tasted like the liquor from a rice plant. Perhaps more potent.

Soon, he sipped and got more than enough. Once the alcohol broke onto the surface of his mouth, it burned a valley of blisters down his tongue and throat. The pain subsided, while he stuck out his tongue and drew in air. Nikolai watched, nearly tipping back in his crooked seat and then laughed. "First time, yes? I do not favor vodka like family, but it surely beats the wine Richtofen served."

"Where did you get that?" Asked Takeo. Their eyes locked. "From Richtofen's room. He had no use of—"

"You had no use of going in there, Russian."

Degraded again. Shit.

"Actually, I was returning the knife he had lended me. Seeing he was not there, I cared to move along. But Nikolai's eyes did not miss a shine of the glasses. They were merely hidden—or stored—no one needed them, truly. What? An ending get together for us all? He'd only invite Dempsey to such events! Bah, Dempsey!" He continued with his rant, "They aren't even allies! From the start it was always, ‘Good, Dempsey!’ ‘I wish I could shoot such bullets at the undead!’ American this! American that! Like he ever means it! I say, perhaps he is trying to convert him to become German, so they could make him into a super weapon? I don't know much about Richtofen, but I know he would do that!"

Takeo snickered shaking his head at all this nonsense, "It seems as if you were the jealous one all along. So you wanted to befriend the American?" He shrugged, "So did I. He has the soul of a warrior. The marksmanship of a sniper. The leadership of a dragon upon the lesser ones."

Nikolai belted a hand onto the table, intaking a sip from the beverage at hand. 

"What are you trying to say, Takeo?"  
"Clearly, he has claimed his friend already. This team is divided into meddlers and workers. Tank does work hard, Edward understands what is going on. But do they work? You and I—a decent combination. I do not see why we could not finish this ourselves. Akinasu wa yome ni kuwasuna; do not let your daughter-in-law eat your autumn eggplants. Or in other words, don't let Dempsey take advantage of your thoughts. He is not relevant."

 

-

 

Hands managed to please him, along with an elongated kiss. It was lasting forever—Edward thought so, remembering to lean into the osculation everytime he had the chance.

Then, the American began to devour Richtofen's neck. His teeth sunk into the delicate skin and suckled against the tense dermis. Oh God, standing wasn't any good anymore. He even wondered how the two came to this position. They were seated beforehand, and now they were on their dogs for the longest time. Edward could barely even stay vertical for so long.

A rough push was delivered to the doctor, he had luckily landed onto the bed (and oh how close he was to bumping his noggin on a surface again!). He wondered what was it with Dempsey and all this unnecessary roughness...

That would have to wait to be thought of, Dempsey crawled onto the creaky cushion, instantly heading for his partner's lips. Edward braced for the impact, closing his eyes and slightly puckering his own.

It was long before came to conclusion that he was mistaken. Dempsey didn't want to kiss him—the marine was fiddling with the crushed pink petals near the doctor's head. Edward had took notice to this, frowning while reaching a hand towards the crumbled fragrance. 

"Such a pity. It was beautiful," Sweetly breathed doctor.

Dempsey smiled, "But it was far from compare, Edward."

 

-


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(  
> Thanks for the kudos and the bookmark!

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 14

 

The brain in a jar came from the cadaver the German had in the bunker. And the extra pieces were founded throughout the dig site. They were lucky to have found them, too. Richtofen would've had a fit if the multiple pieces were not discovered. Or maybe he would just craft it by hand. It was rather easy to do, from a technician/doctor's point of view.

He was happy to see his old friend back, but in a rather mobile form. The Maxis drone was a big help with eliminating the undead, reviving downed teammates, and communicating with how to end this all. He was an excellent way of obtaining information, and also killing zombies.

Richtofen had almost cried when he heard his dear Maxis’ voice. Actually, he had shed a tear.

"I'm glad you are back, Maxis. Even if you are a sky drone," Told Edward, continuing with his Boreas’ Fury and slaughtering the dead. If he could've, Maxis would smile. He enjoyed seeing how hard Richtofen's team was working to release the little lost girl. 

"As am I. I hope to discuss more about this later, I must return to the charging station."

It didn't take a second for him to leave. Edward finished his cluster of the undead.

 

He heard the sound of heavy boots and backtalk. He knew who was coming now… 

"Hey, doc!"

He smirked lightly at the name. Hearing the word ‘doctor’ being cut down, and used at the American's own lingo was pretty amusing. "Dempsey, what brings you here? I have already eliminated my en—"

He was curtailed by a ravishing kiss. A hand curved around Edward's waist, and pulled him close. The doctor widened his eyes in shock, but soon had learned to kiss back. Tank pulled away, then ran in the opposite direction of him. How elementary. Richtofen screwed his racks of teeth together, snarling childishly at the marine who ran off. "Oh, who just kisses someone, then runs away!" Shouted the angry German, waving his clenched fist in the air.

"Ahem…"

He was stunned to hear the sound of the awkward intervene, and turned around. Takeo stood, rocking back and forth on his heels with his staff held behind him. Edward sighed with relief. He didn't know why—perhaps he knew Nikolai would throw a fit if he heard what had just happened. That is, if Takeo heard what happened...

"Goodness, Takeo. You are very sneaky. Do you need something?"  
"Yes."

The Japanese man walked off, gesturing Edward along with him.

 

-

 

Takeo led Edward to a closed area. Apparently, this speaking matter must've been very important… 

Richtofen's heart began to speed up. He wondered if this was about Dempsey and him, or even if he did really see it. The German swallowed heavily, trying to keep a confident expression. But he couldn't; his hands began shaking as well as his knobby knees, then his brow had a soft sweat.

"Wh… What's the matter?" Asked Edward with fret,  
"Surely, you know about the wind that escapes our hands as we punch?"

Thank God. A relieved smile slipped onto doctor, "Oh yes. What about it?"

"I was wondering if what Samantha said is true—there is an upgrade to this?"

Richtofen's countenance faded from a relaxed stand. He was now curious, and pressing. "Yes, but why do you need to know?" Questioned Edward, "Surely you know about something, or have done something to figure out so. Why don't you share it with me?"

Masaki's eyes squinted with disgust at the German's so-sudden caring behavior. He recalled the German not caring about Samantha's whims and wishes. All he wanted was the knowledge of this new improvement, Takeo thought. "I do not wish to share such matters with you, German. You are better off not knowing, since you would only slow the process."

Richtofen gripped at the edge of the warrior's shirt, bringing him awfully close. "What process?! What must you be speaking of!"

*Creaaaaak. SLAM!*

"The process of freeing the trapped girl, Richtofen." Interjected Nikolai.

Edward had immediately looked towards the bulky Russian. He lost his anger, and became disturbed. He released Takeo, who dusted himself and stalked away. "I don't understand," Whispers Richtofen, then he picked up his voice, "we are all supposed to work as a team! Together!" Nikolai growled, narrowing his clouded greens. "Don't give us that дерьмо! If we were all a team, there would be no secluding others! You and Dempsey are a team, Takeo and I are a team. The only team that will survive and aid the rescue of Samantha is this warrior and I!"

"You shut your God damned mouth! You have not worked as hard as I, you will never work as hard as I! I demand you tell me how to upgrade the One Inch Punches!"  
"The only punch you will be getting is one from me, if you do not quit your idiotic speaking!" Shouted Belinski, his breath heavy.

He had shut up after that, in fact he tried to conjure up some apologetic statement. And so he did: "I'm… I'm sorry…" Richtofen looked away, and outiside the small, manmade opening. He bit his lip, holding back whatever was to escape his eyes… 

"I apologize for this behavior; for my inattentiveness on the subject; for my lollygaging with the American. You both have done so much, you deserve to know about all of this, to be informed of how to do these things. If you would offer me a second chance, I could truly prove my worth. I could truly help you free Samantha."

Takeo looked at Nikolai, he looked back. They had already discussed what they'd do if this would happen. 

"Alright," Replied the Slavic, earning a hopeful look from the German, "but only on one condition…"

 

-

 

He waited for the other male. And waited… And waited…

Tank hadn't returned yet because he was showering. Richtofen knew this—he refused to be caught in that situation again. Let alone see Dempsey like that again. It would've been his last time if he did, but Edward kept the memory of the time before last. He hated himself for thinking of such at this moment… 

The pitter patter of exposed feet were heard from down the hallway. Richtofen felt his heart collapse while he gathered his belongings. In came Dempsey. Edward's heart was slamming against his chest, now.

"Hey, Richtofen."

The German continued to stay silent and looking away from Tank. He gripped harshly onto his items. "I was waitin’ on you," Bantered the marine. He held onto Edward from behind and rested his head onto the soft vest. He quickly managed a kiss, before the doctor noised with unappeal, and moved away from the man behind him. He then violently brushed off his shoulder. Dempsey took note of this, cocking an eyebrow.

"Okay… ?" Tank moved over to the side of the bed, fixing the pillows that rest on the head of it.

"Are you gonna join me, or are you going on a camping trip?" Asked the marine, laughing solemnly at the baggage in Edward's palms.

The German stay silent. His look fixed onto the manmade window.

"Are you okay?" Inquired Tank. He stalked to him, pulling his partner close again. Richtofen thrusted from Dempsey's hands, fire replacing his broken heart. "Will you just leave me alone?" Questioned Edward, finally facing Dempsey. Hot tears endlessly stream from his eyes. The devil dog reached for the doctor again, struggling to comfort him, but Richtofen smacked the hands away.

"Get off of me, you imbecile! Don't touch me again!"

The American exhaled a sharp breath, he felt confusion and melancholy begin to sprout inside of him, "Oh, sorry then."

Richtofen cringed, grappling his own locks of hair in exasperation. 

"Can you just… leave me alone?"  
"What? Did I do something wrong? Do you not want me to touch you?"  
"I don't want you! I don't want you to look at me, talk to me, touch me or anything else!"

Tank shook his head, coughing in incertitude. He ran fingers through his wet, dark hair, blinking a countless amount of times. "I-I don't understand… What's with the sudden idea that I'm the bad guy? Why are you acting like this?" Questioned the American, moving closer towards Edward.

He became so soft now. So quiet. Tank's glare ran all over his unrequited love's body, then reached for his hand. He massaged the gaunt knuckles. Richtofen had glanced at Dempsey, while he held his breath.

"I thought… I thought you loved me…"

Edward's eyes checked on the other's with despair and hope. He wanted Dempsey. He needed him... But he just couldn't have him.

Edward headed toward the door, snatching his extremity from his ex. He paused. His breathing suddenly hitched, whilst he opened the door. He swallowed. "I never loved you, American."

 

-


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *beatboxes* Thanks for the reads and kudos and bookmarks!  
> Thanks Incubus B) I'm glad you found a good story for Ed and Tank. And I'm glad it was my story!   
> B) Thanks for the bookmark, too.
> 
> Hhhhh, this chapter is like, 'whaaaaaat'  
> And sad. Kinda.lol   
> And weird.  
> It switches P.O.Vs lol

Misfortunate Fate   
-

Chapter 15

 

He wondered how far they were from releasing Samantha from Agartha. Or, actually, how close. 

It was all just a jumbled up mess from Edward's point of view. He didn't have the knowledge of his other (two) teammates. It was a while before anything was clear, and examples were shown. Takeo had helped Richtofen, Nikolai helped Dempsey.

"Damn," Spoke Nikolai, "You are so far behind. Perhaps we need to work night shift too, ey?" The Russian had laughed, but Dempsey was bitter. An inscrutable expression lingered for a long while. Belinski scrutinized him, and nudged him softly. "Is everything okay, comrade? You look tired? Angry?"

Dempsey stay silent, his arms crossed within his heaving chest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

Belinski raised a brow at him, tapping his shoulder. "Dempsey? What is the matter?" 

"I'm fine, okay? Could you just… hurry and finish your grub so can leave?" Riposted the American. 

The Slavic man's eyes widened at the quick reply. He then threw the rest of his breakfast into the trash, or scoffed it down as quickly as he could. "You're right. Meddling is something we don't have time for. Let's go."

 

-

 

"So, somehow these upgrades are connected with Samantha."

Takeo switched a leg over the other, leaning in and narrowing a finger towards the ripped map.

"Yes. Nikolai and I have heard of a step in this process. We must wield an Iron Fist? We were thinking this is an upgrade from the punch?" Spoke Takeo, sipping softly onto his cup of coffee. God, it tasted terrible. He wished it wasn't such a God damn strong plainness. But he just had to drink it. Edward made it for him, and Takeo was bad at replying with ‘No.’

"Takeo?"

He was awoken from his conscious thoughts and had become attentive to the doctor. "Yes, Edward?"

He smiled softly at the Japanese man, latching a hand onto his shoulder. Takeo grew confused, but stay calm. "I wanted to apologize for almost hitting you last night. I was just frustrated, very ignorant that violence would not answer my problems."

"I accept your apology, Edward. It means a lot."

Richtofen retrieved his hand, and had fondled his own hair. "Ja? Well, I'll make sure it doesn't have to happen again."

 

-

 

It was… tricky. First, they had to cleanse the stone in the church water—who would've guessed—then could not get it dirty whatsoever. Actually, they couldn't get their shoes dirty. One step in the mud, and you would have to go recleanse it. This brought anger to three except Takeo. He was agile and quick after all… 

"I'm so fucking done with this," Spat Dempsey, throwing the stone to the ground, "I can't believe this didn't work after three times." Nikolai took the tablet, and dusted it from the mud.

"It is a bit tricky. Maybe we should go a different route?" Responds Nikolai, treading back to the cathedral. Dempsey scoffs, "If anything, we need Tak to do this for me. He has little feet, we all differ from that."

"Hello, everyone." 

Nikolai had turned to the man, Tank hadn't. "Ah, Richtofen. It seems as if you have found struggle with this task as well?" Questioned Nikolai, moving along toward him. Edward nodded. He removed the stone from his pocket. "It is very frustrating. I have tried twice now." 

"I know. Perhaps she is trying to say this is not the right thing to do?"  
"That's impossible. I know this is the right thing to do."

Tank shook his head, looking at the doctor from the corner of his eyes. "If it's so impossible, then why is it not working? There has to be another way to this, then?"

"Maybe can fly it over there," Nikolai said,   
"… That's right,"

Edward reached for the drone that was hooked on his hip, and flicked the switch to ON.

"Hover sequence initiated."

Edward smiled at his dear Maxis. "Maxis, I need for you to deliver these—not a scratch, nor a mark of dust upon it—to the Tank Station. Please, place them on the furthest table in the back. Got it?"

"Of course. But where is the Tank Station?"

The three men face palmed.

"Ah, nevermind then. Men, we will have to work on this later. The day is getting late, the zombies are rather vicious at night. I will return these to the church, you all head back to the bunker."

"I don't know why we have to always follow your orders." Mumbled Dempsey,   
"Excuse me?"  
"You heard me. Why are you always calling the shots, huh?"

Edward twitched. The first time they had spoken since last night, and he did not think he'd enjoy this conversation. Quite frankly, he did not want to even communicate with Dempsey. He knew there would be some despair? Aggression? It didn't matter anymore now. He was sucked too deeply into the conversation. "Okay then, Dempsey. Do you request we do something different?" He asks, a weary smile upon his lips. Tank snorted, "Yeah. We should do anything else except for this stupid plan. It's always work and retire; work and retire. I say fuck that. We need a different plan. I say we work overnight."

Belinski smirked inwardly. He loved watching the fire in his comrade's belly; the stubborn speaking he had provided. "I believe that the American's words are right. We should do so."

"Well, I'm not stopping you both. Actually, I would love to join you both. We better get this over with, whilst we can."

 

-  
♦Richtofen's Point of View

 

The blood stained my fingertips as I had managed to work my way throughout the undead. Surely, they were quickly disposed of. My hand had made sure of that. Each time I had thrust it forwards, the zombies would shreik then die. I came to admit to admire the way they had been killed. And I hated to admit it, too.

It was very dark… In the midst of our vision was a deep, thick fog. Who's to say it was rain, too? We were all sweating. It was gross. Actually, the others had resorted to removing their upper clothing (why do they always take off their attire?) whilst I had decided to roll up my sleeves and unbutton my vest. Goodness, that thing was always squeezing me… 

I trod through the wet land. My boots squish in the sticky, grey mud. 

"Keep up, German! There is more to come after this!"

Gott, I could've only imagined what the Russian was talking about. More hordes? More… mud? Gah, I wasn't going to fight the fact that I despised both of these things. It was almost equivalent to how much I hated the American not speaking to me. He was at such a proximty, that I could just reach out and speak. But he seemed too focused, too angry to talk to at this moment. 

I couldn't say a word, anyways. The mist had really suffocated my quick breaths of excercise, and Nikolai and Takeo had told me not to speak to him under any circumstances. Except a life or death situation. In that case, I would have to talk to him. Oh, let a lightning bolt strike me then… 

"Here we are. Where's the drone?" Asked Dempsey, as I had fumbled around to obtain the little floating object. As it had finally come into my hands, and Ludvig had stopped lollygaging, I handed each of the men a stone. 

"There. Now we have to eliminate… I don't know? Perhaps 20 more of the undead?" Spoke I, dusting my hands and flipping off the switch, "That's 60 between us all."

"Good job, doctor. You can add." Tank spat at me. 

I chose to ignore it; swallowing down my words and trust. Damnit… It was not my fault he was so mad, though! He did not even know! I wanted to blurt out all these different things at once, but surely it'd come out as vomit. Actual vomit.

"I say, Takeo had probably already acquired the beacon. I'm not sure why, but there are only two we can have. Someone else will have to get it." I said, continuing to strike at the dead. "I think I should. I've killed the most of the freaks," Pointed Dempsey. I tssked, rolling my eyes. Though, Belinski had nodded. I knew he would. He was basically owned by the American.

He had got the beacon and we left. I couldn't believe Tank and I were caught up with the others. It had taken so long.

Nikolai grinned, "Alright. It seems as if the undead are eliminated for now, well until the crawling one is dead. I will make sure to care of it, until it is time."

I nodded along with the marine.

"Goodnight, Nikolai."  
"Until the morning, Tank."

Why did that break my heart? Oh God, I was breathing so heavily now. Why was I so sensitive? I have to go… I had to leave!

I stalked across the Tank Station, covering my soft cries with heavy steps.

"Hey!"

I froze… Shaking in fear… 

"Goodnight, German."

I bit my lip in fear, my hands quivered at the words of Tank Dempsey.

I had finally had the courage to face him. I gave a slight nod,

"Tank."

-


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lol here u go  
> Lol no one reads these anyways  
> Lol I'm gay trash and I put a pumpkin in my butt once  
> ^ that's kinda tru  
> B) Enjoy m8 this one is 3000+

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 16

♦Dempsey's Point of View

"Ugh."

We didn't get any shut eye. At least it felt like it—though I was notified that I slept for a whole day. The men took the time when I was sleeping to care for other things and kill this invisible zombie Samantha went on about. And put the staffs in specific places...

In came the German. I knew how he slept; just like a baby and probably hugging a pillow. He came in to headquarters with a full fledge smile on his face. I would've asked just what was he was all shits and giggles for, but that would have only ruined his mood. But me? I didn't have much of a good one at the moment.

I couldn't even keep my head up for breakfast. I gnawed like a zombie on a tough piece of bread (if it even was bread) and ended up going to sleep on it. Nikolai had woke me quickly, too. He was so abrupt and loud with it, I thought there was some kind of emergency, and Tak had jumped from his seat.

I grimaced at the Russian, making a fist at him. Takeo faked a smile, looking abroad while he had done so. 

"I hope everyone is prepared for today. This might as well be our last time facing the dead," Spoke Edward, his lips caressing his coffee mug afterwards. My eyes widened in shock; I'm sure Nikolai and Takeo's did too.

Takeo swallowed heavily, "Really? We are closer to the end of our journey than I had thought." Nikolai laughed. He hooked an arm around my neck, and then the Japanese man's too.

"Comrades, we've finally done it! Soon, we can all go home!"

I didn't know what Nikolai was talking about. I didn't have a home to go back to. Not even a family. I looked at Edward. He seemed on the line of neutral to ill about the subject. Maybe he was just like me. But maybe it wouldn't have to be like that anymore. It took me a while to notice the doctor's lookers were right on mine, but once I did, my head whipped into the other direction.

Quickly, I unhooked my neck from the man's arm and plastered a hoax of a grin on my face. "Yeah, I can't wait to."

 

-

 

We all had our staffs, eager for battle. Samantha said something about unleashing a horde, so we were on our own on figuring out what the hell that meant. Richtofen had thought it was about letting out the zombies from different areas, but it was proven to not be that. (Nikolai had almost died from getting stuck in the thick, grey mud where we were going to release them.)

Anyways, it was about the beacon we had obtained. We had to unleash something, by firing missles from the robot? All we had to figure out was where… 

It didn't take long to find out, too. Takeo had found a place diagonal from Generator 5, that looked like the perfect place to throw the beacon. After Nikolai pressed the button within the robot, I had thrown the weapon and the area exploded… 

Dust picked up from the area, exhaling from the manmade hole we had created. 

"It is said mortals could not enter…" 

As the girl spoke, questionable faces drew onto each of our expressions. How in the hell we we supposed to release whatever was in there, then? 

Richtofen removed the flying robot from his hip hook.

"Gentlemen," He said, flicking the button, "Maxis. Go ahead." Not a second afterwards did that brain bot fly into the hole. 

"I wonder what hides beneath the soil of one thousand years," Takeo said, keeping a tight hold onto his staff. 

"Perhaps more zombies. Maybe robots?" replied the Russian, a heavy gulp audible from his choked up throat. We all waited…

The silence made everything tense and hostile. One time during the quietude, Edward moved, and Nikolai flinched from fear. He was trembling. He must have been thinking of the situation too much.

A light took off to the skies. What the hell was that?! More soft blue lights shot from the hole and into the sky. It became apparent soon enough, that these were no flashes. But these were zombies. Robotic, armored zombies. Takeo took the first shot with his staff, it had already broken the mask from the robot. Another one, and he had fell back and down.

During this rather easy process, we had obtained those green floating things. Maximum ammunition, double… points?, and a zombie blood package for Nikolai. Ugh, as if that guy wasn't ugly enough. 

The horde of suit operators had been demolished, especially from Takeo's hand. It's like the guy knew they were coming or somethin'.

Heavy exhales and intakes, sweat dribbling from underneath strands of hair, heaving chests… "That was… easy enough, yes?" Asked Edward, seeming to be out of breath the most. Takeo smirked lightly, Nikolai patted me on the back. "Eha! Comrades, we must celebrate!"

"Later,"  
"Hm?"  
"We must go to the Main Chamber. Just follow along, and I will explain."

As we hopped along, the German explained every detail. But he sounded like a madman, not like he wasn't one already. I wouldn't be surprised, truly. Richtofen had so many gears turning in his head, so much shit going on in his life. So many plans… So little time. I came to think that was why he had stopped crushing on me. I thought he had stuck one, and I thought that about myself, too. But I was jumbled up about that. Besides, it wasn't like I had stopped liking him… or whatever… 

"American?"

I jumped at the sudden words spoken from the Japanese man… "Hm? What is it?"  
"You heard what the German had said? About the—?"  
"Oh, yeah."

Takeo passed an akward stare. "What? Jesus… I can't day dream for a second? I know what's gonna happen, Tak!"

"Yes, but I don't want you lagging behind, like the past?"  
"Oh screw you, Takeo. I'm gonna be fine!"

The warrior beamed happily.

 

-  
♦3rd Person

 

"Damn, I hope tomorrow we can free Samantha from Bagatha,"  
"Excuse me, but it's Agartha."  
"Ish kabibble."

Richtofen's face twisted with confusion at the lingo, and Tank had slyly smirked.

Nikolai looked around for a moment, then said, "You know. This may be last night we all are in same room."

And Tank thought American language was terrible. He swore Nikolai's vocabulary became choppier and choppier each day: "We should all celebrate!"

Richtofen had almost immediately looked from his journal. He blinked a few times, then resorted to his little black book again. "Why would we celebrate? To get drunk and awake with a headache? I do not feel like it." Said doctor. Takeo exhaled, kicking gently on Richtofen's chair.

"Edward, why not? We do not have to intoxicate ourselves."  
"Yeah, and like you said… We all drink occasionally. So let's make it the occ—"

He slapped his book to the table bitterly, cutting off Dempsey. Nikolai tied the hair above his eyes as one.

"I know what I said. But I do not feel like it, for this occasion does not seem like the time to do such a thing." Quipped Edward.

Dempsey placed a hand onto the German's shoulder. 

They locked eyes… 

"C'mon, Edward. Even I'm going to drink. And I can't stand alcohol."

Such designation. He was honored, but Richtofen still refused nonetheless. He shook the hand from his upper arm, turned away, and exhaled rather deeply. "Nein, I… I must leave."

 

-

 

He lie down in bed, all of his body exposed, and reacting to the cold air surrounding his wholesome figure. Goosebumps treaded his tan skin, along with hair and soft sweat. He could not sleep. No matter how tightly he hugged the pillow before him. No matter how hard he tried to resemble the pillow to that special one… 

It wasn't that he had been completely aware of his presence, but also the fact that he needed him closer.

"Come… here…"

Tank stepped cautiously. He didn't even think Richtofen would hear him in the bed room. He glided o’er the creaking wood and he sat at the edge of the German's matress, beginning to cover the man's back with touches and soft grazes.

"They told me," Whispered Dempsey, his voice as smooth as silk.

Edward inhaled sharply, dubiety frowned upon him as he leaned back, relishing in the tender endearments. He eventually nodded, realizing he was getting lost in the warmth and affection. How he missed Tank's hands, though. They were so careful and knowing just where to touch Richtofen. His body begged for attention from the marine; holding himself or clutching onto a thin pillow just wouldn't do tonight.

"I couldn't sleep that night," Drawled Dempsey, "not even tonight could I have. After Takeo, Nikolai and I had conversed about what happened, I just went to bed. I couldn't sleep. All I wanted was you beside me."

Tank pulled his hand away. "I just hope you didn't mean what you said,"

Edward remembered those cruel words, before he had left the marine in the night. Richtofen hadn't meant it. He meant the complete opposite. 

Edward wrapped his hands around Dempsey's neck, pulling him into the bed. Tears of joy remained in his eyelids.

The marine smiled into his partner's chest, eventually he chose to kiss against it as well. 

After some time of the embrace, the foreign man let off, and Tank had remained smooching on his torso. Edward leaned into the kisses. Moans broke from his lips. He was sure it was behoove this night. He was positive it would be more serious later on anyways, since Dempsey began adding bites and licks along with the simple caresses.

The German didn't know what to say for the American to get the gist and get on with all of this. Statements were underappreciated at this time. All there was supposed to be consisted of sweet noises and the sound of skin sliding against one another. Edward puled. He varied across the bed. "Dempsey, I…"

Tank was already at Richtofen's undergarments. He palmed the groin area before he was excused. At this, he pulled away in embarassment. He sat up and backed off of the man. "Oh. I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself, yeah?"

"No,"  
"What?"

Doctor grabbed hold onto Tank. He placed a hand on the back of his neck, the other retreating to the devil dog's trousers. He cupped between his thighs, and brought him close. They were merely touching lips. All Richtofen had to do was say the word, and Dempsey was there. And so he did:

"I want you, American. I want to copulate," 

Tank breathed with desire. He, too, craved for his partner. Did he exactly know how to give Edward what he wanted? No, but he was willing to try. Dempsey nodded, unbuckling the green belt from his waist loops. He threw his clothing aside, then did the same with his darling after he took them off. 

He looked down at Richtofen. It wasn't like he's never seen him naked before. But in this moment, he swore the man grew more intriging. Tank lowered himself downwards, then started with kissing at the other man's calf. He drew the petty smooches to Edward's inner thigh. He then began to suck and nibble onto every other spot, leaving dark purpling marks on his legs. The German hissed. The pleasure was too good. He wondered what this would feel like later on...

 

-

 

White skin's sweat trickled and dropped down onto tan flesh.

A sweet scent was dancing within the air, and the couple had faced each other. Chest risen just above the other, it was almost an inescapable amout of space between the two males. Fingers tickled upward onto a tan arm, and then intertwined its hand with the other. And, did it feel like an incandescent heaven...

Loving words, inscribed and engraved into the thin layers that lie on top of Richtofen's bones. Olive green eyes looked up into alluring azure ones. As a bit of sweat dropped from the American's chest onto the German's, a sudden rush of contentment crossed the pink, plush lips on the marine.

Dempsey was quite nervous. His body trembled as he held the pose above Edward, whom was figuring out which position would suffice for the rest of their copulation. He faced Tank one second, then was turned over the next. The American had eventually took time to press himself into Richtofen's arms. He wanted his partner to face him during the rest of intercourse. Even if it risked awkward looks between the two. 

The marine's face twisted with nervousness as Richtofen took the time to embrace him back. He was certain the other wouldn't want to be too close for comfort, but this was extraordinary. Especially when more than a hug was added. Edward kissed Tank so sweetly; moving his lips from the other's, to his neck and more. 

Dempsey moaned, encouraging his partner as he laid caresses and beautiful busses.  
Gentle cries and soft pleads made way from Richtofen's lips, while Dempsey had soon thrust and press deep within his partner. All of this was so overwhelming. He'd feel as if he was at the brink one moment, then he'd lose it the next. Pain didn't subside that much, especially when the American would pull out just to ram it back in. 

Another cry. It seemed mixed between pleasure and agony.

Oh God, it was so long ago since their intercourse had begun. Tank was surprised that he was keeping up for such a while. He was also shocked to see that Edward hadn't passed out yet. For, beneath the nautical was a writhing, breathless German. His face stained a pale, frosting pink. Round his extremities mimicked the same color. 

A few more pushes later, the marine knew Edward was done for. His body continued to rise from the torn matress and his teeth were to bare. Heavy breathing escaped, then shortened, airy 'ahh's. "American, I think I'm… I'm going to die," Richtofen said, fighting for his breath. 

Dempsey smirked, leaning to press multiple caresses on his partner's neck and cheek. He loved watching the unstable man beg for release. Especially when he cried out for it.

"Then die, doctor. Die in passion and relief."

It didn't take Edward a second after that sentence for the German to do so. His hips drove into the air, colliding with the nautical's as well. At that, Tank had found himself on the verge of climaxing. One final wave of rocking had done him good—he took his partner's ankles and then hooked his legs around his shoulders. Richtofen noised with confusion, "What are you doing, American? What's happening?" 

"Just wait, doctor," Hushed Dempsey, "I'm almost finished." Edward nodded, an uncanny expression withholding him. He threw his head backwards, groaning as he filled the German with his remaining strength and last rush. Richtofen moaned as well. He clawed at whatever he could reach on his lover, his eyes in a daze whilst he did so, then cried out with negative appeasement. Dempsey looked at the sweating, work-beat man. His brow carried a ton of sweat, his lips were pried to showcase saliva dripping from his upper lip, and his organs were tinged pink. Tank conducted a smile, one hand running beneath Edward's jaw. "You're so… delicate. You're a flower,"

Edward gasped, not only from the comment, but from the sudden quickness succored from his partner. Tears came to his eyes—Tank struck a sensitive spot within him, emotionally and physically. "Dempsey, I…"

He couldn't even reply. Richtofen faced away from being a loss in his words. He became red all over now, even the tips of his ears were the color. "You're so beautiful, Eddie," Tank uttered, a smile of all sorts returning. 

"Don't say that," Huffed Richtofen. "It's not true,"  
"It is, Edward. I swear on my grave,"

He hid his face, shaking his head in protest. Tank shifted the calves from his shoulders, lifting his lover into his lap. Edward inhaled sharply. He continued to look away when his partner moved the arm from his face. "Then your grave must be stone cold!"

"It would never lie,"

Dempsey kissed and caressed Richtofen, making sure to pay a lot of affection to his facial features. Edward writhed, now bouncing lightly in his partner's lap. A moan here, a moan there. He latched onto Dempsey, high mewls breaking from the usual-quieted mouth.

And finally, Dempsey had reached his orgasm. Tank's legs had began quaking and his grasp on his beau wasn't any better. Before speaking holy profanities in a croaking voice, the American lazily looked to doctor. His eyes were hooded like half of an eclipse. Flushed cheeks conquered him also. Tank wished there could be words to express the feelings he had for this structured man. But there was none. Not even the magical three. The marine leaned with hesitation to his love. He wasn't sure if a kiss would be appropriate. Even after they had made love; what an appropriate name for that, too. 

Richtofen let go of his partner, crashing back into the soft sheets.

He was basking in the soothing after glow. The feeling was so relieving and such a blessing. He enjoyed his own space and time away from Tank. Only because he wasn't a big fan of being sweaty and hot against another sweaty and hot body.

It was silent between them now. Dempsey was cleaning himself off with the edge of the bed spread. Richtofen bit his lip and stay facing from him. Stars still invaded his vision, for he had never felt this before. He didn't know if he felt used or happy that it was done and done. He was positive Tank wanted sex from him, but it wasn't like that was the only thing. Dempsey kept good company and Richtofen knew the marine had felt something great along the lines of affection.

The American lay on his darling's stomach. He toyed with the curled hair that rested in the area. "I'm, uh, glad Edward," Uttered Dempsey, a kiss here, a kiss there. "I'm glad my first time was with you."

Richtofen ran his fingers throughout the smooth locks of his favorite gentleman, smiling with a gesture of agreement. This wasn't Edward's first time. With a gentleman, yes. But not with another human being. Richtofen just wondered how that was possible. Dempsey was attractive as ever. Hell, that marine could quit and become a model for all he knew. Doctor couldn't. He was far from modeling agencies. 

He was a scrawny man. He had awkward posture; always running with his back hunched; his feet opposing directions as he'd run. Already at the age of 28 did he have a receding hairline o’er the tips of his ears. And a funky creature on his upper lip. Edward stroked it with his index. He frowned.

He then shifted his eyes over to Dempsey's body, ogling at his dampness. Such broad muscles, such beautiful freckled contours. Not to mention his perfect, plump behind he had. Edward shamed himself for looking at him, even if it would be natural in the relationship, now. It wasn't in his nature, at all really. But it wasn't like he didn't look at Tank's arse before. Probably the first day they met he had taken time to marvel at it. He was surprised Dempsey didn't see him, from how often he did so.

"I just… hope one day we get to do this again." Tank muttered.

Richtofen nodded once again, this time very subtly, sadly. He wasn't sure if they'd see each other after tomorrow. It could be their last night together, for all he knew.

"Ja, I do as well…"

 

-


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ******IMPORTANT MESSAGE BELOW*******
> 
> Last chapter, you guys :(
> 
> So, since I have reached 5+ over my goal of reads, I'd like to reward you all! I've written some Origins fluff of Richtofen and Dempsey. I'll post it when this thing gets 130 reads!
> 
> B) Til then, peace out scrubs

Misfortunate Fate  
-

Chapter 17

 

Of course they couldn't go out to battle, without another session of bedding each other in the morn.

They had to make most of the day last, since it would be the end of their days as one. It wasn't a problem to Takeo and Nikolai either. They knew it was for the best, and it was absolutely confidential between Tank and Edward. They didn't have any business going in there.

He was barely able to walk afterwards, his legs quaked with each step. But, these were Tank's legs we were talking about. He would man up and do what he could to get through the day, even if the pain in his rear did not hesitate.

Edward smiled. He was very lucid, very lively. 

"I hope we can all remain on our feet for the last step," Richtofen winked at Dempsey, secluding him. "It will take us a rather short time, depending on how quickly we can all kill the dead."

Nikolai grinned, exposing his bicep, "Ah! We were born for this day! All of us! Warriors! Soldiers! The holy trinity!"

"There's more than three people, Nikolai," Whispered Takeo.  
"It does not matter, comrade. We all are great men, and I am proud to stand beside you all as we finish this."

The corners of Dempsey's lips upturned, as well as Richtofen's.

"I'm sure we're all glad to have stayed on your side, Nikolai." Replied Dempsey, walking towards the Crazy Place, holding onto his love's hand, "And no matter what happens next, I want you all to know that I'll never forget you. Ever." Richtofen flushed. He felt Tank's hand squeeze reassuringly onto his. It felt so good knowing he'd be here through better or worse. Through thick and thin. It made Edward sad knowing this would be the end… But the end of what exactly?

Soon they stopped through the yellow crystallized teleporter, appearing in the Crazy Place.

Blue rock coated inside of black material had fallen from the ceiling. Every once in a while would it shift into different places. But this wasn't new to any of the men. They had all been here before. 

Edward spoke, "We must feed the souls of the dead into the sky. We do this by—"

"Killing them. I'm sure everyone has heard this story before," Takeo interrupted. Edward nodded, zombies now fleeing from the portals of blue. 

The staffs had stayed within their holders over time, while the men had killed the zombies. It was rather difficult doing so, too. These zombies were robust; hardy. They didn't seem like they'd die, unless a full clip was used on it. And that wasn't a lie either. So instead of killing the lurching dead with their weapons, they had all used their fists as an alternative; continuing to extinguish the zombies until there were no more less than two or so. But even after they were dispatched, nothing had happened.

This was going to take longer than they had thought.

"Why do they not stop?" Asked Takeo, panting for dear life, "My hands are becoming worn and tired." Richtofen couldn't answer that. He didn't know why it was occupying so much of their time. Plus, he was too busy engrossing the undead. Their hands extend to him, like he was the last piece of human on the silver platter. Edward hoped not. He didn't even hear his teammates from the ruckus the living dead created.

Zombies reached for Richtofen. Their nails swiped and dug beneath the dermis.

Subsequently, the few scratches, claws and all had become too induating. Once one of the dead had saw the blood that spilt from his wound, more had clawed at it with savagery.

Once the tears and rips became too much, he doctor fell to the ground, he groaned in anguish and defeat.

Immediately, the zombies had run away. Richtofen didn't know why, but only suggested deliberately that they wanted to down the others before feasting on their bodies. These ancient undeads were dull.

Edward whimpered, holding his oozing arm as it lay strung beside him. And… it wasn't even attached to his torso either… It took a few minutes for him to realize that he had lost it. It twitched for a mere second before giving out and situating itself next to Richtofen. The German cried and cried. Why couldn't anyone hear him? Why couldn't he even hear himself?

His ears thud. The adrenaline was gone. Oh. God. The pain. 

Now he screamed; broken, choppy sobs left the chapped lips and bellowed from the wounded, aching chest. He squalled aggressively, cradling the halfed arm. 

More thuds. They were getting breakneck.

He discerned this was not his heartbeat—it felt gone already, anyways—but it was Dempsey. 

He lifted the man into his hands, the dismembered forearm-and-more resting onto Edward's chest. Tank was swaying as he carried the German to safety. (Was he injured too?)

He came to a rest at the foot of the yellow steps, almost fumbling his partner's body. 

"Edward," Frantically spoke the American, "it's okay. You'll be fine…"

Richtofen shook his head, his inability to speak was getting the best of him. Waters flooded his eyelids, while he tried to refuse crying before Dempsey. He didn't want to be weak. He wanted to be strong; as strong as a boulder; as strong as a soldier; as strong as Dempsey.

His eyes became water hoses, his nose became as stuffed as a bear. He wailed on and on, the pain getting to him, the heartbreak getting to him. The fear of death, loss and sadness had crept upon him and broke him like an iced over twig. No matter what Dempsey was bandaging his arm with, it wouldn't work. No matter what Dempsey said, it wasn't going to work. This was going to have a lasting affect on him forever.

Tank hushed the German, drying his tears and all with his sleeve. He was red with fury. All he wanted to do was seek vengeance for his lover. Maybe that wouldn't even be enough to rid of his dangerous hate. He couldn't hate now, especially when his partner was crying and approaching his demise at any second.

"Dempsey, I love you,"

Had he heard those words before? No, no he couldn't have heard it before. When it was told like a limerick from Shakespeare's poems, it sure as hell didn't feel like it. When it was whispered with slim chance of Tank even hearing him, it didn't feel like it. He got mad. Why was Edward saying it in the midst of this, when he could've died… Dempsey didn't want that to be his last words—Tank would have preferred a slap to the face and a 'I never loved you' all over again...

"Shut up, Edward." He responded, putting pressure on the crimson binds, keeping an ansgty look on his face. Edward yowled, thrashing in pain; he kicked at the ground beneath himself, digging his nails into Tank's trousers. His grip was so tight, it could've caused a laceration. He continued to do so, Dempsey now applying a tourniquet a few inches above the severed limb. 

Richtofen had calmed a bit after the pain partially subsided, now it had felt like a neverending numbness. Edward couldn't see what Tank was doing to his arm now—hazy vision came upon him, followed by him seeing everything multiply. Fearing his demise would be imminent, he reached for something in his vest jacket. "I want you to have something, Dempsey. It's my journal. I've written very important data in here,"

Tank shook his head, refusing to take it:

"I've written the last few pages about you, I wanted you to read them." Edward pressed the book onto Dempsey's chest. It quickly fell from his hand. He was now trembling violently.

Dempsey sniffled, sucking back his tears and running nose. He took the little notebook in hand, just to throw it. "I don't want your fucking book," Sobbed the marine, meanwhile cupping the German's head with both his hands, "I just want you! I want you to live!"

Doctor cleared his throat, before he became choked up once again. Tank became aware of the silence, not only with the doctor, but their surroundings too.

It was like they were here alone all of a sudden. He heard every breath the German had to give. Every cry of defeat. Every sorrowful whine.

He caressed the bruised, wet face with both his hands. Tank brought him close, pressing his forehead to his partner's.

He remembered those eyes of depression. How anxious, too. One had been clogged up with blood, a purpling bubble that looked like it was ready to burst rested beneath it. The left one stay clear, except for a few splats of red surrounding his eye folds. Edward couldn't be more handsome too, thought Tank. The nautical fixed the stray hairs on Edward's skull like the fur on a frightened cat's back.

Richtofen cuffed Tank's nape with his right arm, bringing him closer. "I'm… scared, Dempsey." His throat was strained, everytime he spoke it felt like he was swallowing rocks. "Everything… hurts!"

Fat tears dribbled off Tank's red face and onto Edward's cheeks. "You're fine, Richtofen. You're gonna be okay—everything is gonna be okay. I promise,"

He gasped for air, "Do you… do you love me?"

Tank nodded. He wiped the tears of his love with his thumbs, "I do, Edward. To the moon and back, baby,"

Richtofen expressed a smile—a very wet, weary one.

Dempsey then kissed his beloved. He moved his lips atop Richtofen's; broken snivels attatched to them also, as he kissed him zealously. Richtofen (tried to) reciprocate the smooch, but he only ended up with a sloppy motion of restrained lips.

After a tight grip onto Dempsey's shirt, he had pulled abroad; analyzing his partner. Tank devoted a grin to himself, it infected Edward too. 

"Where is Takeo… Nikolai…?"  
"Well, Takeo scurried to get you some of that red juice. Nikolai is holding the last zombie captive. We might as well call it a day. I don't think you'll be able to fight for some while,"

Richtofen hazily nodded, his head dropped as he let out a sigh.

The American caressed his dozing German, signaling Nikolai and starting up the teleporter.

 

-

 

As they emerged from the chamber-cave, their assumptions were true of the untold night upon them. It was in the the beginning of dusk—around 5 or so. Tank carried his rather tired partner in his arms, waving the other two off, then traipsing back to their usual bedroom.

Dempsey yawned. He settled the snoring man onto the bed—removed his stained shirt and vest afterwards, then rinsed it with the rain outdoors. He hung it onto the metal windowsill for it to dry on up.

He watched Edward, placing a hand onto his forehead, then chest. He seemed warm, but he was breathing fine. Tank thanked God for the element that lay around here. Without it, Richtofen would have probably perished very violently. He was thankful for Takeo bringing the Juggernog as well. Edward seemed to become stiff and sturdy once he drank it. 

Soft speaking broke Dempsey's elusive attention. Edward writhed serenely, mumbling more tongues of German. He did this every night, but Dempsey had never seen him this active or loud. He wandered over by the noisy man, comforting him and patting his back. Just what was he dreaming… 

 

-

 

Churlish, rolling grey clouds caked the overhead. It mimicked a winter's sky. Though, as bedarkened and mournful it looked, he swore the scenery was of beauty and otherworldly. Edward inhaled heavily, but his need to breathe didn't feel settling. It erupted a dark cough, but not by him… 

"Edward,"

Richtofen perked his head up after he heard the demented voice. It continued on:

"It feels like I have been lost for centuries. For so long. You refuse to release me from Agartha, you refuse to be of any assistance to me,"

Richtofen shook his head, the red muscle in his chest began to beat rapidly.

"This is not true. Samantha, I have tried to release you. Takeo, Dempsey, Nikolai and I have and we've been true to our words. I had an accident happen. For, I have lost my arm in a battle to save you! Do not refuse to be aware of our struggles of doing so!"

Something emerged from the dusty skies. Some sort of figure. It was a little child. It was her, the little lost girl. "I am traveling further and further from you all, Richtofen. It's like I've become a ghost." She reached her hand to Edward. Her fingertips almost grazed his chest, but only went into it. The doctor's eyes widened with fear, his countenance switching every few seconds. She was unreal, now. And she was fading into a smoky blue.

"Samantha," Whispered the German, "what… are you…"

The girl looked down, retrieving her transparent hand. "I'm trapped, Eddie. The staffs. The… everything. They are not powerful enough to save me now,"

Richtofen swiped his head left and right, "Impossible! There is no way they could not be strong enough!"

"You don't understand, do you?"

Green eyes twisted with clueless caprice.

"The staffs are you men… They have connected with your ancestors’ souls, and embedded with the crystal. You're wounded, which makes the staff weakened. There is no more solution, unless…"

Richtofen looked towards Samantha, her eyes fixed onto the rolling clouds. They looked supernatural; completely bizarre. 

Samantha gestured her hand to herself, crackling and sheering was heard in the air. Finally, the sounds had ended—four new, flourished crystals fleeing into her hand. They had floated above her palm, then she passed them to Edward.

"Unless the process is repeated."  
"But, how!" He cried out, "We cannot use the same area, for it is occupied with staffs of the original ancients! Where do I go? Where?"

The little girl pet Richtofen onto his shoulder, smiling softly. "You will know once you awake. For now, goodbye Edward."

He became startled, jolting from his sleep. His eyes widened and breath was very shaky. He was alive, but that wasn't the point now. He fumbled around in his bed for some kind of sign. It wasn't long before he found one—beneath his pillow were four glistening rocks and a map. It looked rather old… Edward didn't remember this at all… 

"Doctor…"

Edward looked to the marine. The marine looked back, but was stunned by the swirling, shocked eyes. He'd never seen Richtofen look so bewildered and surprised.

"What… What's wrong?" Carefully declared Tank, 

Edward swallowed.

"We need to leave."

 

-


End file.
